


Thaumaturgy

by NoCommentHere



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: M/M, Slash, Third POV, jack is a crazy mofo as always, mention of witches burning, might become explicit later, the prince and the thief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoCommentHere/pseuds/NoCommentHere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of fair princes, red-haired thieves, and a world ruled by superstitions. Medieval AU. Jalph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sorcerer

Ralph heard the whispers, as did every other person in the room. Women fidgeted and men shook their heads, shooting frightened or stern looks at the new young man who was currently being carried in front of the fair prince, by two strong guards. The blonde boy stood straighter on his throne, and tried to perceive better what was going on, as the crowd of people in the Throne Room parted to let the guards and the prisoner pass.

“What’s this?” Ralph asked curiously as he looked down on the two guards, who were flanking a thin, sinewy boy, with wild red hair on his head, probably a little older than Ralph.

“He was caught stealing again, your Majesty.” One of the guards grudgingly replied as he gave the redheaded boy a push. “He’s been doing this for months. Robbing people and frightening them with his devil looks.”

Ralph noticed the red boy clenching his jaw in anger and throwing the guard who had pushed him a vicious, burning look. He cleared his throat to attract the boy’s attention and did it again when he noticed the boy was still settled on killing the guard with his stare. Ralph lost his patience.

“You.” He called. The red boy looked in his direction and Ralph stopped, taken aback by the intense fury in his icy blue eyes, now being directed at him. Ralph tried to recover for a moment, before he continued. “What’s your name?”

The red boy remained silent, obviously intent on not responding him. Then the guard gave him a push again and the red boy curved his mouth in an ugly snarl.

“The prince asked you a question, _thief_.” The guard spoke harshly.

Ralph saw the boy clenching his fist and he prayed for no more violence. He'd had enough with all the wrongdoers being beaten in front of him by his guards for disobeying.

“Merridew.” The red boy still looked at Ralph, the frightening fury still in his gaze, but now a spiteful grin marring his dirty face, the sudden peculiar change in his expression surprising the fair boy.

The name sounded familiar to Ralph. He wanted to ask, but the guard answered him quicker than expected.

“He’s of the old, noble Merridew family. They lost their fortune, the witch of his mother was executed by the Great Inquisition and his father is a lunatic.” He stopped, throwing a disgusted look at the boy. “And it seems his kid is even more lunatic than the old man.” He spat.”Devil spawn.”

Ralph felt a little sick at the information. He had heard of witches being burned, especially those with red hair. Those were of the most evil sort, or so he had heard. He was never sure what to believe, he was a little doubtful regarding this sort of things, but his father always told him to keep away from townspeople and Ralph had spent most of his life inside the castle or on its surroundings and he had never seen many people with red hair, like this boy. He wasn’t beautiful, he was dirty, his long face was too freckled, he didn’t even hold a small part of Ralph’s looks, with his fair, smooth skin and hair. And those icy eyes were too intense, they frightened Ralph, who had never been too bothered by almost anything, until now.

In spite of all these, his image was fascinating to the fair prince. He didn't recall ever seeing such a person before.

“What should we do with him, your Majesty?” The guard asked.

“Yeah, _your Majesty_.” Merridew imitated with contempt, barring his teeth in an even more ferocious grin. “Why don’t you kill me, _your Majesty_? I bet you can do anything, everyone listens to you, with those pretty looks o’ yours.”

Gasps echoed in the great room and Ralph remained petrified at the words, as one of the guards drew out his sword, while the other pushed the red boy so hard, he fell on the floor. There was a struggle, as someone yelled _how dare you address the prince like that_ , there was a scream in pain and Ralph’s heart stopped in fear, thinking the boy had been badly hurt. He stood up and saw it was the boy who had actually bitten the guard’s hand like a wildling, so hard it drew blood, and the guard had to drop his sword in agony. The other guard raised in turn his own sword to put him down and Ralph screamed, almost desperately.

“Stop it! Don’t kill him! Stop right now!”

The guard intent on killing him halted his sword and grabbed the boy by the arm instead. The red boy struggled violently and it seemed he was quite strong, as he was making it difficult for the man to hold him. The other guard, with the bleeding hand, approached to help, although he had a seemingly murderous look on his face. Ralph panicked even more at this.

“Sir!” The fair boy interrupted. The guard put a stop in his tracks and turned to him “Don’t do anything to him. Just take him to the dungeons.”

The guard remained astounded.

“But, my prince, he _insulted you and severely bit my hand_. He must be executed, or at least punished in some sort of way.”

Ralph got annoyed at the suggestions.

“I don’t care. Just do what I say.”

People gave him strange looks and Ralph felt a little too conscious of them, but he shook them off. He descended the stairs of the throne, before he passed Merridew, hung by the arms of the guards, his mouth covered in blood, even though Ralph didn’t know if it was from his own wounds or the wound he had caused the guard. Ralph tried to see his face once more without being too obvious, as he passed, but the red boy was kneeling, while still trying to catch his breath after all the commotion, and the fair boy renounced at the idea. People were still watching him and Ralph himself wasn’t sure why he wanted to see Merridew’s face and why he was saving him in the first place. It was odd.

Just as he heard his guards dragging the red boy after them, another thought formed in the fair boy’s mind, a thought that he was sure it was going to lead him into serious trouble for the first time in his life.

He waited for the night to come, before he took one of his cloaks and a torch and descended the stairs, right into the dungeons of the castle, to the prisoners’ cells. As he reached the entrance of the passage that led to the right half of the dungeons, he demanded the guard standing at the entrance of the tunnel to give him the keys to the last one.

“I have to ask Merridew more questions, to see if I will order his execution or not.” Ralph explained, mentally berating himself for finding such an excuse, even though he knew that was the only one that worked really well, when trying to convince his father’s men. The guard looked at him for a moment, before he reluctantly offered him the key and moved aside to let the fair boy pass.

Ralph was a little tentative about walking alone in that tunnel, even though he had been there before. It always gave him a sentiment of uncertainty. As he passed dark, humid walls and sinister cells, he stopped in front of the last one and inhaled deeply, before he gathered more courage and opened the massive wooden door. And the fair prince almost turned back to the sight that greeted him. Or rather, the lack of.

There was darkness of a pitch black inside and the torch in the fair boy’s hand only enlightened a small part of the cell, including soiled, wet, cold stone walls, even more soiled floor and a corner with the dark form of a young man whom Ralph perceived to be Merridew. The prince hesitated, before he mentally gathered more courage, consoling himself with the fact that the thief was in chains and the guard was still in the tunnel. There wasn’t anything that could happen to him, even though the small doubt was still in the fair boy’s heart.

He still asked himself why he was doing this again, but no sense was made in Ralph’s mind. He did it because he wanted to. Because he found Merridew too fascinating for his own good. Because he was curious about many things. As Ralph approached more, but still remained at a considerable distance, the light fell on the other boy’s dirty face and the fair boy almost dropped the torch in his hand at the sight of the red boy’s eerie eyes staring at him from the darkness. Ralph got somewhat annoyed at how easily impressed and frightened he was by someone not much older than him.

Merridew seemed to notice Ralph’s uneasiness and internal battle, because the fierce grin made its way on his face for the second time that day.

“Why, if it isn’t the holier-than-thou pretty prince.” He grinned, but didn’t make another move, to Ralph’s relief, who tried to ignore all the mockery. “What, came here to gloat, see me miserable and filthy in this hellhole?”

“You should be glad I saved your life, because you would have been dead by now.” Ralph furrowed his brow. He had never been so defied by anyone, in his entire life. And it was so strange, because the more that boy insulted him, the more he wanted to know about him.

The redhead widened his eyes and pretended a mock gasp.

“Oh, thank you so much, _your Majesty_.” He jerked and there was clinging of chains and the red boy was suddenly at his feet, pretending to kiss them. Ralph jumped back terrified, before he fled to the other end of the cell, his heart wildly beating in apprehension.

“Stay away from me!” The fair boy breathed as the red boy gave a rough laugh, before a fit of coughs overtook him for a few seconds. Ralph calmed down a little and softened at seeing the deplorable state the young man was in. After the coughs stopped, Ralph burst out.

“So, is it true?” He asked. “Was your mother actually killed for being considered a witch?”

Merridew scrutinized him provocatively.

“Well, look at me. How do you think _she_ looked like?”

Ralph paused as he watched the boy in front of him, an image of bizarre, desolation and chaos. He looked at the shocking red hair and those light blue eyes, the fury still present, but more diminished than before, as new emotions were now placed there, and the fair boy recognized pain and remorse.

Ralph made a few steps forward, uncertain.

“And…are you?” He muttered, before he swallowed. “Are you actually, you know…” He averted his eyes. “Devil spawn?”

He settled his gaze on the boy and he noticed the corners of his mouth curling upwards and Ralph felt like a fool for a moment, when he thought Merridew was going to start laughing at him again. He wanted to take back his question, when the rough voice of the other boy made itself heard.

“Yes, I am.”

Ralph froze, his eyes glued to the redhead in front of him. He was torn in two, one part of him severely doubting the madman’s words, while the other believed in them, which heightened his foolish curiosity, even though he was mostly sure the red boy was making fun of him. Then an idea came to him. He was going to turn the tables.

“Are you really? You know, my mother has actually read to me Arthur and Merlin’s stories and Merlin was devil spawn too. But he had powers, he was a wizard. Are you a wizard too, Merridew?”

The fair boy crossed his arms smugly, analyzing the red boy’s features and how they changed from slightly amused, to dark and harshly serious, when the thief realized the prince was now making fun of him and asking him tricky questions. But the turned tables didn’t last long, because the redhead suddenly turned his mouth in the same twisted smile, startling the fair boy again.

“And what if I say I am? What will you do? Order my execution faster?”

Ralph stared at him with large eyes.

“No.” He retorted.

That was it. That was the excuse. The perfect excuse Ralph needed to free him. They both knew that discussion was a charade.

‘Merridew was special and Ralph needed him as his counsel and servant. Because he was special. He was a wizard. He would protect the prince and the kingdom’s people’. That was what Ralph going to tell everyone, so he could get away with freeing a criminal for nothing. People were mindless fanatics. They would have believed that. They believed in wizards and monsters and ghosts. They would have believed Merridew was a wizard. And they would have feared Ralph too for having someone like that by his side.

Not to mention that he could have gone outside the castle and see the world, if Merridew was with him to guard him. His father wasn’t going to be that protective anymore. He wasn’t going to prohibit Ralph’s exit, he was finally going to let him outside the castle. It was perfect.

The fair boy made a few steps forward as he pulled out the shackles’ keys from between the folds of his robes and showed them to the dirty boy.

“I’m going to set you free now.” Ralph said tentatively.

Merridew looked at him eerily.

“Why?”

“Because you will work for me. You will be my servant.”

The red boy gawked at him blankly for a few moments, before he started laughing like a lunatic that had just escaped from the madhouse.

“And what's so amusing?” Ralph frowned, irritated and somewhat alerted. The red boy’s amusement stopped abruptly. He remained with a roguish smile on his face.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I will be your servant, all right.”

Ralph stared at him annoyed and distrustful, the feeling of being tricked consuming him once more. He was more than sure he was going to be deceived by the red boy, but he decided he didn’t care that much at that point. He was going to risk it for his own purposes. He had to risk it. There were so many benefits he could have gotten from Merridew, that he had to try to free him.

Ralph knew he had small chances of actually getting what he wanted, given the red boy’s mental sanity and the fact that he was constantly mocking and taking Ralph for a naïve person and he was sure the red boy was going to do something to him, sooner or later. He just hoped he wasn’t going to get killed.

“You have to promise you won’t kill me, if I free you. That you won’t do anything to me.” Ralph spoke, circumspect.

“I promise I won’t.” The redhead raised his shackled hands in defeat, amusingly serious. They looked at each other for a few more moments, before Ralph approached and bent next to him, unshackling his wrists in a hurry, while feeling Merridew breathing down his neck, giving him shivers. The heavy metal landed on the floor with a heavy thud, before Ralph quickly backed away from him, putting a considerable distance between them.

“Alright.” Ralph spoke, somewhat insecure. He looked at Merridew, prepared for any reaction, particularly violent ones, but the other boy was just rubbing his bruised wrists as he stood up and expectantly returned the stare.

“Well, what are you waiting for, prissy pants? You have freed me, let’s get out of here already.” Merridew spoke and Ralph frowned at the insult, as he turned and opened the door.

“Stop calling me names.” The blonde boy muttered annoyed. He felt the redhead too close behind him already, as they were walking in the tunnel, and he made a few more hurried steps, so he could get away from him. Merridew didn’t answer, although Ralph felt him closing the distance between them again, almost sticking to Ralph.

The fair boy sensed panic and sweat dripping down his temples as he saw the guard at a distance in front of them, enlightened by the torches. The man was already in alert when he spotted Ralph with the red boy following him. When the two boys were close enough to the guard, the latter raised his weapon alarmed.

“My prince!” He exclaimed. “Stand behind me quickly, the madman has escaped!”

Ralph heard Merridew snort behind him, but he quickly took matters into his hands.

“I have freed him, sir.” The prince spoke, trying to appear calm and sure of himself. “I have decided to make him my right hand.”

The guard knitted his brow in confusion.

“But how? He is an outlaw and a proscribed thief.”

Ralph carried on.

“No matter. Merridew is not like the others. He’s special and he’s also a sorcerer.” At this the guard gasped and backed away in fear and Merridew almost burst out laughing. Ralph quickly elbowed him in the gut, before they appeared suspicious, and the redhead grunted as the air was knocked out of him.

“ _Would you stop looking so amused._ ” Ralph hissed quietly as he turned his head and looked him straight in the eye. “He’s going to tell.” The red boy growled something, apparently resentful of Ralph’s earlier punch, but other than that, he tried to arrange his features in a blank expression.

“Sorry, prissy pants.” He half mouthed, purposely using the insult again. Ralph scowled, before he turned to the bewildered and uneasy guard, who was gaping at them in agitation.

“No need to worry, sir.” The fair boy smoothly continued. “Merridew will protect me and my kingdom. And now, if you are so kind as to move aside and let us pass, I will be really grateful to you.”

The guard still looked at them dumbly for a few more moments, before he slightly bowed, stepped aside and almost backed into the wall when the red boy passed near him.

Ralph would have laughed too at the entire display and would have been surprised as to why a grown up man, forged and roughened up in battle, was so afraid by a fifteen years old boy, but Merridew was already almost as tall as the guard, despite being less muscular, not to mention his red looks that inspired fear in those superstitious people. Plus the fact that Ralph was going to tell them he was a wizard. Everyone would have feared him for then on. And Ralph could have done anything when the red boy was with him. It was going to be marvelous.

The two boys walked in silence for a while and Ralph heard the sounds of their heavy breathing and steps echoing in the tunnels and hitting the stone walls. They reached stairs at one point, then the massive door that led to the upper part of the castle. As Ralph pulled out another set of keys to open the door, he felt a firm hand on his back, almost pushing him into the wall on the side of the door and the fair boy yelped and dropped the keys. His mouth was covered by a rugged hand, before he even had the time to comprehend what was going on.

“Now I’m going to take these keys and bid you farewell, fancy boy.” The redhead viciously spoke into his face, keen blue eyes boring into Ralph’s wide green ones. The prince yelled into the thief’s palm, but the red boy was intent on acting according to his own will. He analyzed the fair boy, eyes scrunched up, as if he was planning something.

“I will tie you up and I need both hands to do it. But if I take my hand off of your mouth so that I can tie you, you will surely scream for help and that is not in my benefit.” Merridew grumbled, apparently dissatisfied with this conclusion.

Ralph stared a little longer, wide eyed, before he struggled more and yelled muffled words into his palm. Merridew growled annoyed, before he violently backed Ralph into the wall, one hand hurtfully holding the fair boy’s arms behind his back, while the other still on his mouth. Ralph’s body thrummed with fear and anxiety as he was unsure what the savage in front of him was formulating in his mind but he didn’t have time to think of the possibilities.

The red boy took his hand away and Ralph opened his mouth, prepared to yell, before something else slammed itself onto his mouth and the fair boy’s eyes almost popped out when he saw the other boy’s mouth covering his own. The prince froze, shock inducing his system when it dawned on him that Merridew was kissing him. _He was kissing him._ Like men did with women. And that did not go well for the fair boy’s mental health.

He fought and opposed, but it seemed he was powerless as Merridew kept him like in a cage, the other boy’s arms surrounding him in a tight grip. Ralph still panted for air from all the thrashing and the effort, and the slightly open mouth provided the perfect opportunity for the aggressor. Merridew pried his lips further and invaded the crevice, a warm, wet tongue tangling with his own and Ralph whimpered quietly into his mouth, the act doing something to his mind and body. It was wrong, wrong on so many levels and yet he struggled less and less, until he remained limp in the red boy’s arms, head thrown back, and mouth becoming more and more compliant, until he found himself responding to the harsh movement, in his own clumsy way. He had never kissed anyone before, but kissing the red boy felt better than anything he had ever experienced in his life, despite that he was still partially tormented by the immoral act in which they were engaging.

It was like he couldn’t stop himself, his body burned in every place the red boy touched him, his lips were on fire beneath the bruising kisses. He felt the redhead’s hands on his lower back, groping underneath his robes, and the fair boy moaned at feeling Merridew fondle him through his trousers, calloused hands rubbing at his crotch, then trailing his sides, until they reached his behind, grabbing at his rear with a force that left him panting and voicing embarrassingly loud moans. The redhead growled into his mouth at hearing the sounds the fair boy was making, before he forcefully slammed his hips into the other boy’s, pushing into him, while his mouth trailed the side of his face, leaving a wet trail, until it reached the fair boy’s neck. His teeth firmly grated against the smooth skin, determined on making his mark.

“A-ah-Merridew-“

“It’s Jack, alright,” The redhead grumbled into his neck, before he retreated his head, face a few inches above the other boy’s. Ralph’s brow glistened with sweat as did his lips, swollen and red, from the red boy’s wet, rough mouth. They looked at each other in silence for a few moments, heavily panting and flushed.

“Jack.” He repeated quietly, almost in a daze. A low, broken sound was pulled out from his throat, when Merridew took his lips again, but far less intense than before, their kisses slow, open-mouthed and gentle, both boys murmuring into each other. The fair boy heaved his hips, trying to force them into the red boy’s, but they only met air, as the other suddenly pulled away and ended the kiss with a loud smack.

Merridew wickedly smiled down at him, and Ralph’s daze turned into cold consciousness when he noticed he couldn’t move his arms, as they were immobilized behind his back. And that’s when he realized that Merridew had tied his hands during their small session with a ripped piece from his robes. He had been tricked.

“Didn’t think that would work, but it apparently did.” Merridew grinned, showing his sharp teeth. He bent and took the keys from Ralph’s feet, before he gave the fair boy a small, sarcastic salute. Ralph boiled inside as he turned even redder, from anger and from the method the thief had used to trick him.

“You won’t get away with this, Merridew!” He snapped furiously. “My guards will find you and you will be thrown back into my dungeons!”

Merridew frowned, but didn’t retort to that. He turned around and quickly put the keys inside the lock, urgently opening the door, probably decided on fleeing the place before Ralph even had time to scream, even though the fair boy didn’t do anything in that sense. He gazed at the redhead, his anger diminishing, as his heart was still beating loudly inside his chest, from everything that had just happened.

“Jack.” He called softly. The redhead froze, especially at hearing his first name again, and in such a manner. He turned his head, bolting, eerie eyes scrutinizing Ralph with a power that the fair boy didn’t think it was possible. They looked at each other, before the fair boy spoke first.

“You can have a good life here.” He paused, as the red boy narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased with Ralph’s attempt to delay him. The fair boy was getting more and more longing, as he already imagined that the other boy would be with him all the time, if he stayed. He imagined their previous act repeating and even more than that; blood rushed into his cheeks, his heart thumping louder in his ears. “Y-you will not starve and you will get one of the best chambers and really good clothes. You won’t have to steal anymore to survive.”

The redhead gaped with vile eyes at him, before he ferociously approached him and Ralph jumped at how quickly he got into his face. “Do you actually think I will accept being _your_ servant?” He spat. ”Do you actually think I will ever accept being anyone’s servant?” He stared in madness. “ _Never._ ”

“But why?” Ralph retorted, desperate. “You will have a good life, a way better life than what you have now!”

Merridew gave an insane, wild laugh, and the fair boy’s left warmth vanished completely at seeing him acting like the worst maniac. His amusement brusquely turned into icy fury, as he leaned forward and hissed.

“You don’t know anything about my life, alright? So shut the bloody hell up.”

Ralph looked at him startled and shaken up, no words remained, as something painful gnawed at his gut. The redhead’s expression softened a little, before his hand reached up to touch the smooth side of the fair boy’s face, and Ralph slightly recoiled at the gesture.

“I would take you with me, but you would give me too much trouble. “ He spoke with a frightening stillness. “Way too much, even for me.”

Ralph felt like he was holding his breath, the strange pulsing through his body returning at the proximity and sudden softness of the other boy. He knew it was another trick, just like the last one, but he couldn’t stop the fluttering in his stomach and the heat that spread under his skin.

The hand fell and the red boy gave him one last intense look, before he turned and opened the door, and Ralph was jolted from his reverie.

“Jack!” He called panicked and fearful. ”Don’t be foolish! You will be caught sooner or later!”

But the red boy just smiled.

“Maybe. Until then…see you later, prissy pants.”

With that, he was gone, leaving the fair boy in an emotional tangle and turmoil, the deafening silence loud in his ears, while he still breathed harshly from the confrontation. It was as if the fiercest storm had passed through his life and left it in a mess. Merridew had been the most unusual and mystifying being that he had ever encountered, but also the most thrilling one.

He had been like a shadow, like a demon that captivated him, before he cunningly deceived him. Deceived him into wanting to see him again, into wanting to be with him and belong with him, in spite of the fact that it was sinful and atrocious and unwanted in their world.

And as he gazed at the pale, yellow glow of the torch flame that fell on the cold walls, the fair prince realized that he really had been spellbound by a sorcerer.


	2. Royalty

The blinding morning light invaded a spacious room when dark red curtains parted, jolting a young fair boy from his restless slumber.

He tossed and turned and raised a pallid arm to cover his face irked, before he barely lifted his head, pale locks standing out messily in all directions, and eyes slanted to discover the source of the intrusion.

"What-"

"It's time to rise, my prince." An elderly woman, dressed in simple, servile attire addressed to him. "This is an important day."

The young fair boy shortly gaped confused at the servant and opened his mouth, prepared to return an angry reply, when another female voice made its way to his ears.

"Get up, Ralph."

The boy enlarged his eyes and twisted towards the left of the room, his gaze meeting the identical green one of a fair woman, strikingly similar in looks to the boy. Long blonde locks fell down to a slender waist, her body covered in a sumptuous dress that was an ideal contrast to her paper-like skin.

The image was like a slap to the boy. He stood up in agitation and almost tripped over the thick covers, but he managed to untangle himself in time. He would have stood up, but he remembered his embarrassing nightclothes and so he remained still, eyes wide and trying to appear as lucid as possible.

"Good morning, mother."

The woman shook her head almost amused.

"Your father arrives today from the Southern territories and a ceremony will be organized in the honor of his return." The woman's eyes bore into him and Ralph almost averted his eyes, but he forced himself to hold her gaze.

"Do you mean there won't be any-?" He trailed off, a vague smile slowly gracing his lips. The woman nodded, returning the smile, the same enthusiasm radiating from her.

"Yes, Ralph. He apparently succeeded in his quest. The peace offering was accepted and there won't be any disturbances. Too soon, I suppose."

The boy released a heavy breath that he didn't realize he had been holding in.

"I expect you to prepare yourself for this evening." Her stare moved to the elderly woman that waited patiently near the window, and the servant bowed humbly, before she headed towards the fair boy, who obediently accepted the beginning of his preparation for the day. The blonde woman smiled at him one last time, then went out the wooden door and it was not long before a large number of servants entered, each holding necessary materials for the prince's attire.

Ralph bravely stood the entire protocol and he snapped a few times at some of them, due to inappropriate touches. It was just a routine of course, an obligatory one, and the prince had to bear through many of this kind during his life, but he still wasn't too used to them. He especially disliked it because those people invaded his personal space in an improper manner, and even though his mother constantly told him that it was usual for royalty to be specially treated and as they were- royalty, the fair boy still disliked it.

This time was a little different.

He didn't even pay attention too much to his preparation- which was why he got slightly scolded by elder servants to be more attentive during the measurements of his clothes or during his bath time. His thoughts always drifted back to the previous day and especially to a certain someone's fire locks and icy eyes.

Ralph managed to free himself after Jack Merridew had left him there, on the dungeons' stairs. He guessed the thief hadn't tied him too tightly, hence Ralph succeeded in untangling himself after constant struggle.

The fair boy refused to call for help, because he would have made a fool out of himself, for being tricked by a thief, and more importantly, people would have found out Jack had escaped and he would have definitely been caught and executed this time, something that the prince didn't like in the slightest, despite the heavy disappointment that consumed him.

The only one who knew about Jack's release was the dungeons' guard who believed Jack was now his servant and right hand. The rest of the world still thought Jack was rotting in one of the castle's cells and most people probably even forgot about him, which was for the best, Ralph concluded.

A tight, warm feeling consumed his insides every time his mind returned to the redheaded boy and the way he had held Ralph and how he had touched him. Ralph had tried to escape from those memories and forget about him, because they only provoked more confusion and pain, but he couldn't. He had never experienced anything like it and he hadn't even known that a person could cause such grief in him, just by committing such simple actions, actions that held so much meaning at the same time. The power behind them was frightening and his thoughts floated to the previous, vague yet ridiculous idea that the redhead had indeed used unnatural forces, but he dismissed it quickly and deemed himself as childish.

It was too unusual though, how the fair boy could still feel even then the fire mouth that had claimed his own and possessed it in such a twisted manner and the strong, fiery hands that had touched intimate parts of him in a way that no one, not even himself had done it before.

He was a boy and Jack was a boy too, so it wasn't normal for something like that to happen between the likes of them and Ralph tried with all his might to get it out of his mind, but it was apparently too late.

Before he could suppress his impulses, the servant that was currently handling his underclothes adjusted his voice, coughing loudly a few times.

"Hm, my prince, it seems there is a problem."

Ralph jumped, his meditation interrupted when the middle-aged man pointed at the area between his legs. Blood rushed into his cheeks as his face exploded under the harsh prick of shame.

"Not a word about this."

The man smiled politely.

"You can count on me, sire."

…

Ralph couldn't remember any day to be more tiring than the one of the king's arrival. People fretted, servants carried various plates with foods, peasants pushed into each other forming an enormous crowd inside the courtyard; merchants yelled everywhere trying to gather attention, children screamed and laughed and ran between people's legs and Ralph thought he was going to go mentally insane from all the pressure that was put on him, as subordinates perpetually asked for his advice regarding the arrangement of the Grand Room or other problems that constantly emerged. He tried to dismiss and pass the more minor matters to those lower in ranks as he mostly occupied himself with the organization of the room where the ball was going to be held, since his father particularly cared about appearances and impressions.

Everything went quite according to the plan for the fair boy, until he found himself observing that there were more guards than usually scattered around the castle, especially in the Grand Room and the halls. As he discussed with the second-in-command of the ceremony preparation, he sensed a pair of eyes following him around the room, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, an eerie chillness enveloping him as he swirled and took notice of the dungeons' guard that had encountered him and Jack the day before.

A heaviness lodged in his stomach and he swallowed audibly, turning to one of the subordinates.

"Why are the dungeons' guards up here?"

The young man strangely looked at him as if he was a lunatic.

"You ordered to bring up as many guards inside and around the castle on this particular day, sire. To keep order and stop the mob from creating mayhem."

Ralph opened and closed his mouth, perplexed and uncertain, before he nodded heavily and parted from the man who left with a baffled expression on his face. The prince didn't remember too well everything he had said and done in that respective day, due to all the commotion that swallowed him up, but he knew he had wronged when he took that decision. He should have at least paid attention to that minor detail, and now he had to put up with the consequences.

That guard's stare had persistently been following him for a certain time, and Ralph hoped that there wouldn't be any serious inconveniences coming from him, but he knew he was deceiving himself.

He was well informed and the guard was as well, that a right hand and personal guard should follow his master and yet Jack Merridew was nowhere to be seen around Ralph. He couldn't have expected the guard to believe that Jack was around there, but only went unnoticed, because every person, even the eldest and the almost blind would have noticed Jack Merridew, his looks being a severe clash in those surroundings, where most people were simple in looks.

The fair boy knew he had to find explanations for Jack's absence if he was to be asked on the issue, despite that he still rooted for the guard to eventually let it go.

He just truly hoped he wasn't going to inform more people about it and as he held on to this will, Ralph went on with the day's troubles, intending to ignore the man's suspicious looks and acting as if everything was completely normal, despite that he felt like he was going to burst out from the inside.

He continued leading the organization and managed to focus his attention on the more relevant issues, even though he sensed that the issue about Jack was too important at that moment.

Cold sweat coated the prince's skin at the mental images of Jack being caught and killed and his limbs turned almost tremulous. Why did he care so much about that barmy thief anyway? He had tricked Ralph and he had also committed numerous crimes, God only knew the kinds of, plus he had constantly made fun of him and used violence on Ralph to escape. He was worse than a madman and yet the fair boy cared about him. He wanted to rip his own hair out for being so bloody idiotic to like such low scum just because he had touched lips with him.

It was a really immature thing to do and so the fair prince decided to free himself of this horrendous emotional torment and not give a damn about what happened to Merridew. He couldn't even consider him a potential partner, because he was a criminal and a loon and a boy too and what confused Ralph the most was the fact that he wasn't even beautiful. The prince's eyes had always searched the most gifted people in this aspect, because he was beautiful himself and so he needed a beautiful partner, not someone like Merridew. He had to maintain his high standards and not be continuously deceived by that red haired nutter.

Ralph exhaled and carried on with his duties until dusk began to fall over the kingdom. He could sense the king's approaching stormy party, as the gradually growing noise and alarm on the castle grounds signaled the arrival of the group. The knights and guards used force and violence on commoners to make way for the coming carriages and the court eventually lined up, leaving only a gap to serve as an aisle to the king's party.

Ralph sat next to his mother, throat constricted and heart beating fast, nails digging into his palms, while he struggled to maintain an image of calm and control.

A few smaller carriages passed with lean stallions in the front, the strongest knights riding the first horses, before the carriages turned bigger and bigger as they entered the courtyard, until the largest, most decorated carriage appeared, made a turn and stopped in front of the two fair-haired royals that waited patiently at the front. A minor protocol was held by a sophisticated, young boy who stood at the side and loudly announced the king's titles, before a broad-shouldered man with golden hair descended the carriage's stairs. People held their breaths as he cast a quick look upon the entire court, before he finally settled his blue stare on his two family members.

"Laura," He nodded towards the queen, who slightly bowed with perfect elegance.

"Your grace." They embraced and a heavy, ardent sigh passed along with the warm hug. When they parted, they both had smiles on their faces. The king's steely gaze shifted then to the slim boy, who stood unyielding next to the woman. He offered Ralph the same warm smile, but Ralph could see that the warmth didn't reach his father's eyes. The fair boy was prepared for the apparently humorous comments that always hid different, much harsher meanings.

"I see you haven't changed much in a year, Ralph. Slightly taller, but other than that, you are still the same pallid boy." The king spoke with heavy irony. He lifted a large hand and patted the boy's cheek, and Ralph had to seriously strain himself from wincing. "Still as pretty as ever though." He chuckled bitterly and the fair boy's humiliation burned his insides, especially as he felt the entire court's eyes on him.

Even after all those years, Ralph still wasn't used to his father's critical and disappointed jokes regarding him. He was aware he had never reached his father's expectations, but it was still painful to hear it disguised from the king's own mouth all the time. It was still painful to be viewed as a failed version of another person, as someone that he should have been, but wasn't. Ralph gritted his teeth as he remained further behind the king's party that entered the castle, knuckles white from the strength with which he had been clenching his fists during the entire meeting of the king.

Ralph didn't know what he had expected. Perhaps something different, even a slight change in his father after being so much time away from his family; perhaps a change resulted from the pain that the distance between them had brought. Nothing was different. Nothing was ever going to change. His father was always going to treat him as if he was from glass that was about to break at any moment. As if he was incapable of anything.

The boy sighed tired and walked through the gates along with the crowd, waiting for the ceremony's announcement. The second-in-command of the party walked on the podium where the royal table of the king and queen resided and waited for a signal that would give the start of the celebration. The king admired the room, with all of its impressing arrangements and gave a nod of approval, grinning and congratulating the people that had occupied themselves with it, and they all glowed with gratefulness, before everything commenced.

Singers began their wonderful melodies, knights and servant-girls and commoners started dancing and laughing, already drunk with the euphoria of the party, while the king and queen remained in their place for the time being, often exchanging words with people from their left or right. Ralph knew he should have sat to his mother's left, but he permitted her handmaiden to accompany her during that evening. He wanted to be as far away as he could from his parents and so he mingled with the party-goers during the remaining day and the rest of the night.

Ralph had always loved ceremonies. He loved dancing, he loved listening to people's jokes and stories and conversations about various topics regarding the kingdom and the gossip within its limits. Most people thought royalty was unaware of the rumors spread about them and the fair boy wanted to laugh at their ignorance. He was the ears of the walls, he was the unknown eyes that followed them everywhere, he knew too much, especially for a fifteen years old boy. Or perhaps it was because he was just a young boy, that people considered him almost too naïve to comprehend anything about scandals and secrets. But he knew.

He knew how some people sneaked out at night and roamed around the castle grounds and dealt with scandalous treacheries, he had vaguely heard even before his encounter with Jack about how some people preferred the company of both men and women, but he had always considered it just a rumor. He had never thought that such a thing was possible, until he had experienced it himself, and even then he felt his blood boil at the memories of it, at the fact that he had actually liked it.

Still, as attentive as he was, he couldn't understand why he hadn't been more careful with the events that were about to unfold.

People started staring, some of whom were older men and women and a few young people about his age who threw him wary looks and quickly turned away their gazes when Ralph caught them. He believed at first they admired his appearance, as he was used to unexpected looks in his direction, especially during ceremonies. Whispers flew around him and he caught words.

_"I don't see any personal guard or right hand with him…", "The king must be very curious…", "I am too…", "But where is the right hand?", "A sorcerer? But that's outrageous!"_

The fair boy froze on the spot when he realized what they were talking about.

They had found out. They had found out about his presumable 'right-hand'. They had found out about Jack's release. The news had spread faster than lice. And he felt as if the sky had fallen right over his head, over the castle and the people, and their stares seemed crushing and menacing; they all looked like animals that threatened to tear him apart.

A rugged, weary voice caught his attention.

"My prince?"

He turned and saw his mother's handmaiden, humble and cautious.

"The king and queen have summoned you to the royal table."

The boy widened his eyes and looked in that way, only to see his parents and several important men gazing at him curiously. Coldness rippled through him, his pulse quickened by fear when he noticed the blasted dungeons' guard standing right behind his father with a stony expression planted on his face.

He swallowed dry air, before he nodded and followed the handmaiden, stopping at a considerable distance in front of the table, and remained rigidly straight, face morphed into stone, a façade that covered his internal chaos. Drops streamed down his brow as his father and mother veiled him with their inquisitive stares.

"Yes, father," He slightly bowed in respect, briefly turning then towards the queen, "Mother." He finished, before he fully faced the imposing man. The king stared at him for a moment then burst into laughs, taking everyone at the table by surprise.

"Look at my boy, how he is so calm and deceiving, trying to fool everyone with his 'I did nothing' demeanor." The king chuckled into his short golden beard. He exhaled deeply and shook his head. "Why, Ralph, I think you are very well aware of why we have called you here." He continued, now startlingly still compared to his cheery previous behavior. He scrutinized the boy with an almost accusing stare and Ralph stared back, quivering on the inside, but balanced on the outside. "It's about the Merridew heir."

A flash of fear passed over the young prince's features, his heart pumping so loudly, he almost thought everyone could hear it at that point, despite the loud noise in the room. He truly believed them capable of sensing his fear, of sensing his anxiousness. But his appearance still remained as tranquil as a rock in the middle of a storm.

The king continued when the boy confirmed that he knew about the subject that they were about to discuss, through his short reactions. "I really like what you have done with the ceremony. Yes, I actually know you are the head of it." He confirmed when Ralph appeared briefly surprised. "And contrary to everyone's belief, I actually am pleased that you have taken matters into your hands for the first time in your life. Important matters, nonetheless. Regarding both the ceremony and the fact that you have chosen a right hand for yourself."

Ralph enlarged his eyes as people around started talking confused and impatient. The king dismissed them and ordered for silence.

"Albeit quite early for you to have a right hand, but I'm actually proud of it." A pause and Ralph fidgeted for the first time under his heavy glance. "At first, I wasn't too sure about the Merridew heir." He gesticulated and made a few unclear motions with his hand in the air. "Yes, of course, the fallen Merridew family is indeed made of criminals. They are outlaws, accused of murder and theft and sorcery. Merridew's wife was executed, after being accused of witchcraft." Gasps and whispers at the rumors being confirmed and spoken out loud by the king himself. Ralph bit his lip in apprehension, while more people gathered around and listened in curiosity. "Silence, I said!" He boomed then carried on. "I was scandalized indeed, but the more I consider the option, the better I find it. A person with such reputation will definitely inspire fear in other monsters that lurk within the shadows of this kingdom and keep them away from you. I have reached the conclusion that it is probably the best choice as your protection, despite the appearances. But what I am curious about…"

The fair prince waited, his heart on his sleeve, an unfamiliar happiness filling him after hearing his father's words, after his father had actually told him he was proud for the first time in his life, but still too restless to affect him pleasantly, since there was more. He knew everything was too good to last, because the greatest problem still remained unsolved. And it was voiced by the king in the matter of seconds.

"Where is the Merridew heir? Where is your so-called right hand?"

The room burst into whispers and words, people talking between them with fervor, as the air suffocated Ralph like a living entity. Guards and those higher in command ordered for the party to go on and for people to mind their own business. There were some protests, but most returned to their own fun, while others kept listening, even though no meaningful words were exchanged anymore.

Because the prince assured his father to bring his right-hand in an instant.

"He is in his chamber, father. He hasn't felt too well."

"Well, bring him immediately. I am really curious about this Merridew boy, accused of so many crimes." The king grinned, before drinking from his cup with careless joy.

Ralph quickly bowed, then turned and went out the room in silent panic, his frantic steps echoing in the almost empty halls of the castle, as he hurried to find the cause of his damnation. He searched with his eyes for any sign of the red boy, absurdly imagining that maybe he was around, perhaps hidden between those people and that he had somehow sneaked in again, but not even Jack would have done such a mindless thing, after everything that had happened.

The prince shook his head and quickly went on the way out, towards the entrance that led to the outside world already revealing the night sky. As it dawned on him that he was in the deepest trouble he had ever been in, his mind cursed Jack Merridew in all the possible ways that he was aware of.


	3. Outlaws

A fair boy made his way through an agitated crowd, keen eyes scanning it vigilantly, his dark blue cape flowing behind him as people threw him vicious looks. He pushed through them and turned, desperate and restless, searching for fire hair within the dark mass, the sun almost completely set at that point.

The boy wasn't entirely without hope, but the safe sentiment was gradually decreasing as the night slowly descended upon the kingdom. Hungry eyes pried on him, but he ignored them, continuously advancing through them. He knew he was close to an ill-famed area of the kingdom and that his father would throw fits if he was to discover he had long left the inside of the castle to look for a dangerous person among the chaos of the common folk.

He felt grubby, rough hands grabbing at him and saw unpleasant mouths with black gaps grinning at him from all sides and he barely managed to disentangle himself. He asked a few, closer-to-normal looking people if they had seen Jack Merridew, before giving them his description, but it was to no avail as none of them confirmed his searches, not even for a reward, and Ralph's desperation gained depth, the hollowness eating at his mind.

The strangest thing was the fact that their eyes briefly seemed to light up in recognition when they heard about Jack, but it was as if none of them wanted to talk about it. Ralph wondered what reason was behind this general reluctance regarding the red boy. He supposed it was Jack's and especially the Merridew family's overall reputation of dealing with witchcraft, but he was still curious as to why none of them even wanted to look at him anymore after hearing him mention Jack's name. It couldn't have been that bad, could it?

A startling fear was slowly rooting in him as he eventually accepted he wasn't going to find that bastard and, even more, now he couldn't apparently find his way back to the castle either, given that he had ventured way too far from it. All he could do now was ask for indications for his return, but he hesitated about asking anyone around, since most of them looked at him as if they either wanted to murder and rob him, or violate him.

The boy shuddered and continued his way, until he reached a small, paved street crowded with drunken people who swayed and laughed and threw up in one corner or another due to the tavern that dominated and enlightened the area. Contrary to his expectations, he actually found a dirty, but seemingly trustworthy girl, standing alone under an alcove and calmly watching the people that passed by. She also seemed to be quite brave, since she didn't seem to mind those gruesome people, mostly men, that she was surrounded with.

"Hello, I am looking for someone and I am wondering if you have seen him?" Ralph eagerly inquired and the dark girl looked up, malevolently grinning and showing what was apparently the twentieth pair of teeth with gaps that Ralph had seen in that night. It wasn't her aspect that bothered him, but her attitude, and it was as if she was worse than all those people gathered there. No wonder she wasn't afraid. She was just another source of terror.

"What can I do for ya, beautiful boy?" She grinned even wider and passed a slimy tongue over dirty lips, before she approached him and stared at him with such thirst, that Ralph almost backed away from her. He didn't. He wanted to get information out of her so he had to make her like him for that. Even though the prospect that Jack had dealt with such a person was making him ill, he had to remember who Jack was in the first place. Because he was of the same kind.

"Have you seen a boy, around my age, red hair and these really blue eyes? He was kind of um-" Ralph raised his arm a little more than half of head above him to explain Jack's height in motions "Kind of this height, quite thin, and oh, he's also freckled and-"

Ralph jumped when the girl backed away in an instant, her pretty face scrunched up in disgust, fury burning in her eyes after hearing the fair boy's words.

" _Jack Merridew?!_ " She hissed, her expression twisted now in loathing. "I never want to hear of Jack Merridew, ever again, did you hear me? _Never!_ " She turned, her black hair whipping her face, and urgently made her way through the men that whistled and called after her.

Ralph wanted to yell and stop her, make her wait at least for a moment, tell him anything, at least a place where he could encounter the redhead, and that she didn't have to deal with Jack in any possible way, but she disappeared in less than a few seconds and the fair boy remained astounded. _What in God's name had Jack done to those people?_ He frowned and shook his head in defeat.

"Oi! I can't believe my ears and eyes, look at who needs Jack, mates!"

The blond quickly swirled to be greeted by three, quite young boys, two of them carelessly leaning on the side wall of the bar, while another stood at the front, his right hand playing with a bottle cap, throwing it in the air then catching it again. Ralph scrunched his eyes to see them better, but only the one at the front was more visible, his dark brown hair and dark skin enlightened by the torches from inside the tavern.

"Wait, don't tell me," The brown haired boy spoke, "Jack either robbed ya or shagged ya, and now he is in debt to you. I bet you want a rematch or somethin'." He laughed out loudly, followed by the other two boys, who now came closer. Ralph didn't recognize any of them and yet they spoke as if they were all familiar. One of them had lighter brown hair while the other was a sandy blond and he was almost as tall as the one at the front, but Ralph couldn't match their identities to any people he had met before.

"No, he didn't rob me or shag me, whatever that means," Ralph twisted his brow in annoyance, which earned him another round of laughs from the three boys. "I just really have to find Jack. So you know him?"

"Know him?" The boy at the front grinned, "He's the chief, blondie. And what matters do you have to settle with the chief, aye?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, but I can assure you will be rewarded if you help me find him." Ralph retorted rigidly, pulling a few golden coins out of the side pocket of his robes, a sight that seemed to impress the poor boys. The shorter one widened his eyes, before he measured Ralph up and down, something new dawning in his gaze.

"That's the prince, Maurice!" He addressed to the tall, dark skinned boy at the front. The one called Maurice wiped the smile off of his face in an instant and scanned Ralph in a similar manner, his eyes narrowing when he took notice of the quality clothes that Ralph was wearing and his uncommon appearance. The third tall, sandy haired boy moved to the side, as if he was about to flee.

"Oh no, I'm getting outta here, I'm not going to end up in one of their cells!" He commented fiercely, but the Maurice boy grabbed at his wrist to stop him.

"Just stay where you are, Bill!" He snapped, before turning to Ralph again, his stance now taking a dark, menacing allure.

"Why would we tell you where Jack is, huh? So you can throw him in your dungeons to rot in there? No fucking way." He growled, and the fair prince grimaced at the foul words.

"I won't throw him in my dungeons, quite the opposite actually," Ralph commented coldly, "But I won't give you any details on what I need Jack Merridew for." The blonde boy finished, trying to appear unmoved by the attitude of the three outlaws, as he regarded them in a lordly manner. The truth was that he was quite tense and on guard regarding their behaviors, given that all three of them had proven they were more than untamed. Particularly the tall Maurice boy who was still looking at him in a mix of suspicion and aversion.

"So it's up to you if you want the gold or not," Ralph finished, showing them the quite impressing coins, "But first, you have to tell me where Jack is."

There was an unbearable tension and Ralph really tried not to back away from them, as they peered at him like wild animals prepared to attack at any moment. He hoped they were aware that they would be caught and executed if they even attempted to rob him, because the fair boy had no intention of dying or getting gang raped in that night.

"No." The Maurice boy suddenly spoke darkly, taking the fair prince by surprise. He gaped wide-eyed at him, palm with golden coins still stretched in front of him insecurely.

"What do you mean by 'no'?" Ralph inquired, frowning. "I am the prince, you cannot refuse-"

"I said _no_." Maurice repeated through gritted teeth, stepping closer, and the other boys followed him, all three forming a threatening image that determined the fair boy to step back in growing fear.

"I won't betray the chief and neither my mates." At this, the brown-haired, short boy nodded to support their temporary leader's words, while the tall, blonde one remained impassive, but fierce all the same. "What can your dogs do to us?" Maurice continued, sneering at the mention of Ralph's guards. "Lock us in for not chirping at the prince's command? Maybe it's worth it. But betraying a Merridew..." He trailed off, fear flashing in his face and Ralph watched his reactions in bewilderment. "Nothing is worth _that_."

The stare battle only lasted for a little longer before the Maurice boy signed to the other two to follow him.

"Robert. Bill. Come on. Chief will take care of this one." He glanced darkly one last time and it didn't take them long to make themselves unseen. Ralph contemplated the idea of following them on the street they had disappeared on, but he knew that's what they waited for. He couldn't risk going after them, especially after that perilous encounter. And what was up with that boy's words about Jack? _'Nothing is worth betraying a Merridew?'_ He couldn't have spoken seriously, he had probably just tried to scare Ralph off. He had met Jack and he was a boy just like all of them, a criminal, but just a boy. The worst he had heard of Jack was theft and robbery, he hadn't even been accused of anything else when he had been captured by his guards. The fear of superstitions was eating away at everyone's mind, apparently.

The blonde boy shook his head, carried his way through those drunkards and pondered the thought of going inside the tavern to ask questions, but he renounced when he noticed the havoc from inside. He would probably be swallowed alive if he dared to go in, so he took another route, on a seemingly quieter street. No people roamed around that area, which looked even more suspicious and Ralph almost wanted to bang his head on a side wall when two dark figures started following him.

"That's just wonderful. Perhaps I should just yell after Jack and that's it, maybe he'll just magically appear in front of me, since everyone has such an interesting opinion of him. Fools." He grumbled under his breath as he stepped into another street. Never, in his entire life, had he thought he was going to end up like this, on the bridge of being murdered on some dirty, sinister street of that filthy town, like he was nobody, and because of an irritating bastard whose pride was too big to know what was good for him. He still couldn't understand why Jack had refused his offer, given that he would have had a much better life at the castle, instead of haunting those streets like a proscribed lunatic.

He was so infuriated that he couldn't even be scared of the two following shadows anymore. He had learned how to fight to a certain extent at the castle because his father had assigned him a master sword-fighter a few years ago. He thought he could take them. Or perhaps Jack himself had sent some loyal friends after him, because he had heard of the prince looking for him. Perhaps he searched for a small vengeance.

He found stone, wet steps at one point and went half-running, half-falling down them, skipping two or three at the time. The two shadows raced after him and the fair boy's heart started pumping loudly in panic as the cold reality gradually leaked through him. He wouldn't have taken them all by himself. Maybe one of them, but not both. He didn't have the skills to do that yet and the realization crushed him like stones as fear reached new levels inside of him, deafening him and clouding his vision.

He could almost hear their foul laughs and whistles, calling after him in the most degrading manner.

"Hey there, precious boy! We won't hurt you! Come on, let's play!"

They burst into malevolent, obnoxious laughs and Ralph did his best to run faster than he had ever done in his life, despite that he felt his legs giving up on him at any second. When he almost thought he had lost them, he skidded around a corner and gracelessly collided into a thick wall, ending up on the pavement in a helpless heap. He looked up alarmed to see where he was.

It had to be a dead end of course.

The boy turned, sickness clenching within his stomach when the two dark figures approached him slowly, as if delighted by the torment they were putting him through.

"I'll have you know you won't get away with it, if you kill me!" Ralph snapped, taking his stance. He wasn't going to get down without a fight. He was never going to beg for mercy or degrade himself in any way in front of such scum.

" _'You won't get away with it!'_ " The taller shadow mimicked in a quite impressing mockery of his voice, before they both laughed loudly again.

"Hear that?" The other one spoke with sharp derisiveness. "The little boy thinks he can defeat us." His tone was cold, almost steel-like in his lack of emotion. Ralph almost boiled inside, especially since now he realized he was even taller than the one who had last spoken. He scrunched up his eyes in the dark and tried to perceive their faces, but he couldn't decipher their traits, only the lines of their figures, and it appeared to him that the two criminals weren't as old as he had thought.

"What-" Ralph started when the taller one approached, pulling out a knife from the side of his breeches. The fair boy's breath stuck in his throat and he backed into the wall, almost melting into it.

"You will wish for us to have killed you by the time we're through with you." The tall shadow snarled, raising his knife. He dashed towards the fair prince, and Ralph didn't even realize when it happened, but it was so quick that he couldn't believe his own reaction as he instinctively brought his fist out with a yell and hit the bastard full in the jaw. The criminal didn't fall to the ground, but stumbled backwards considerably, hand grabbing at his own face, as the other one stood to the side unmovable, probably in shock at the fact that one of their victims had retaliated for the first time.

Ralph panted as he gathered more courage and raised both of his fists, prepared to attack again, even though he sensed that was the end. The older one was probably beyond enraged that Ralph had hit him, and in front of his partner nonetheless. He was going to get murdered on the spot, without being given second thought, and his hunches were right because the knife's blade shone as the murderer stepped into the moonlight, growling like an animal. The fair boy breathed heavily, sweating and almost trembling, not even remarking that the criminal now stopped and stared at him wide-eyed, knife still in the air.

"Prissy-pants?"

Ralph took a sharp inhale when he heard the voice speak to him in that familiar tone. He focused his attention on the face in front of him only to meet blue eyes staring at him in a stunned silence.

They gaped open-mouthed at each other for moments, and Ralph's terror and cold suddenly morphed into pure anger. The fair boy unstuck from the stone wall and got into his face.

"I could call for my guards and lock you up right now, you bloody idiot! Even more, have you hanged by the neck for attacking me and trying to kill me!"

Jack's eyes bore into him like two cold slashes, his features twisted into the same fury.

"You don't say, fancy boy? It's not like you were the one who were punched in the face, really!" He snapped back, angrily pointing at the side of his jaw, where blood trickled down the pale skin of his face and neck.

"That's because you attacked me first!" Ralph sharply answered back, as Jack straightened up and looked at him through narrow eyes.

"Of course I attacked you, that's my job around here. And where are your oh-so-mighty guards, eh?" He sarcastically inquired. Ralph fumed, fury burning in his cheeks, before he exhaled and leaned back as well.

"They can easily find me, if I call them." He lied, even though he was aware that Jack could see through it. "Doesn't matter anyway. You should come with me to the castle. My father inquired about you and everyone now knows about your release and thinks you are my right-hand. So you'll basically be found and executed if you don't come."

The red boy stood there, eyes wide in shock, before he furrowed his brow and barred his teeth, but not in amusement. He was angered beyond comprehension and the fair boy's pulse gained speed when the redhead got into his face again.

"Why the fuck does everyone know about it?!" Jack raged.

The tension was about to explode as the two boys stared each other down, when a third monotonous voice broke through them.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

Ralph leaped, taken by surprise, since he forgot that Jack had initially attacked him with someone else.

The redhead groaned and deflated in the matter of seconds. He turned towards his partner who now stepped into the silvery light and Ralph was surprised to see a young, short boy with jet, black hair, dark eyes and an eerie allure. He seemed dangerous and frightening, but not like Jack. While Jack was chaotic and fire-like, this boy was still and silent as the night.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Jack grumbled. "This is exactly what I need right now." He sighed and ironically pointed at Ralph. "This is prissy-pants, Roger." He then turned towards the fair boy with a smug look on his face and the prince scowled at the mocking attitude. "Prissy-pants, I think you have already heard that this is Roger." He grinned wider. "He is my brother in shedding blood."

Ralph narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

" _I_ _am not_ prissy-pants. I am the prince." He addressed to the dark boy, who widened his eyes and looked from Ralph to Jack, and back. "So did the Maurice bloke and his friends announce you I was looking for you?" The blond continued, expectantly crossing his arms. The other two boys exchanged baffled looks, and Ralph realized they didn't know anything about his earlier encounter with the three outlaws. He carried on, trying to enlighten them. "They confronted me and told me you were their chief. That Maurice boy said he wasn't giving me information on where you are and they were all quite alarmed that I was going to arrest you."

"And you are not?" The dark bloke inquired, features harsh, his pallid face appearing ghostly and threatening in the white light. Ralph stiffed and shook his head, fed up with the same assumptions.

"No. And I assured your mates that I wasn't going to, but they still fled all dramatic-like." He retorted in annoyance. Jack grumbled and face-palmed, while Roger rolled his eyes.

"I told you Maurice is a bloody idiot." Roger stated flatly and humorlessly, and the corners of the fair boy's mouth slightly curled upwards at their reactions. The dark bloke remained quite stony in his stance though, still not trusting completely the fair boy's words. He turned to Jack. "I still think we should go before we get in trouble, chief." He spoke with cautiousness, expectantly looking up at Jack. The redheaded boy didn't react, but continued gazing tensely at Ralph.

"I cannot, Roger. I have to solve some minor issues with the blondie." He admitted, the earlier anger resurfacing in his tone. "Tell my tribe I'm afraid I will not return too soon this time." He finished decidedly.

The dark boy gaped at him in surprise.

"Are you serious, chief? I mean-"

"Aye, mate." Jack threw him a short look. "It'll be alright. This pretty one actually believes he helps me by offering me a particular important position at the castle."

Ralph could see the bewilderment intensifying in the dark bloke's stare as he lingered unsure, taking in all the heavy information. He then nodded reluctantly, and with a last suspicious glance towards Ralph, he faded in the darkness.

The two remaining boys waited until the echoes of the last steps vanished completely in the stone-like silence of the night, and their only breaths could be heard. Ralph inhaled deeply, suddenly apprehensive now that he was alone with the red boy once again. He fidgeted as he felt Jack still seething with fury due to the trouble he considered Ralph had put him in. In the fair boy's opinion though, it wasn't trouble.

Jack might not have realized, but this was the most favorable thing that could have happened to him, given that he was now part of a fallen family and seen as one of the worst criminals around. Ralph was giving him the opportunity to redeem himself and clean his image in the kingdom. It was the best favor, despite that Jack didn't see it yet.

"Tribe?" Ralph inquired, attempting to make small conversation as the red boy walked towards the open end of the alley. He could see him shrugging carelessly in the fade light of the moon.

"The blokes under my command." He answered shortly. Ralph raised an eyebrow as he realized why Jack didn't want to serve anyone. Because he was used to give orders, not to receive them. He was the son of a lord and he had probably been in a position similar to Ralph's for all his life, until a few years ago, when his mother had been executed. And even after, he still maintained his position as leader in lesser social circles.

Ralph said nothing more on the manner though. He had already infuriated the red boy enough for that night and he didn't want him to renounce at walking with Ralph back to the castle. It was irritating, the fact that he was continuously controlled by Jack, and not the other way around as it was supposed to be, since Jack was about to serve him as right hand.

"I have a few conditions if you actually want me to bend to your word." Jack interrupted the silent walk and slowed down for Ralph to fall into step with him. The fair boy frowned and they walked side by side in the stillness that surrounded them.

"One. I am allowed to meet my friends. And I'm allowed to offer them food and other privileges." Ralph shuffled annoyed, but did not retort. Not yet. He was not going to fall into an agreement and especially not with a thief and madman like the red boy. Merridew was supposed to guard and serve him; he was not supposed to talk back.

Jack continued.

"I will not go into battles for you, if there ever will be ones. I will certainly not die for someone like you."

Ralph pursed his lips, fury pooling in his veins, as he felt particularly scandalized. How was Jack supposed to serve him if he wasn't going to fulfill the actual position he had been assigned as? It was ludicrous and he was quite fed up with his rebellious attitude already. That was not going to be tolerated anymore.

"This is not a treaty, Merridew, you will not impose me conditions, because I am your ruler and-"

"Third." Jack interrupted, ignoring his protests, as if Ralph hadn't even spoken. "You will let me do this. Whenever I want to."

Ralph frowned confused as he was unaware what Jack was referring to, but his befuddlement quickly ended when the red boy clutched at his arm in one sudden move and abruptly dragged him towards his chest, knocking the air out of the fair boy. Jack scrutinized him for a moment, eyes filled with cold fire and glinting in the moonlight, and without even waiting for the prince to recover, he leaned in and covered Ralph's mouth with his own.

A sound of both surprise and excitement escaped Ralph and his face burned, blood pumping in exhilaration. Jack's lips didn't taste like anything in particular, but they were still the greatest thing that had ever touched him, and the fair boy opened further, greedily accepting the other boy in his mouth. How many times had he dreamed about it in the short time that he had known Jack, but hadn't dared to hope about it too much?

Heat rushed through him and his heart pounded fiercely in his chest. He raised his arm and grabbed the red boy by the back of his head, pulling him tightly against him. The hot slide of his tongue against the roof of his mouth left him in a stupor and his breath hitched as the redhead sneaked his hands under his robes for the second time.

All of his blood migrated southward when the heel of Jack's palm pushed at the front of his breeches, the other hand tight in the prince's fair tresses. Ralph pushed his head back and arched into the touch, moans escaping him as the red boy furiously worked him through the fabric and Jack covered his mouth with his own to muffle the sounds.

His pulse was deafening in his ears, the pounding almost breaking his chest in the ardency of the twisted moment, and he released another loud sound, disturbing the heavy silence around. Suddenly, a dog barked inside a small yard, a considerable distance away, and voices broke through the quiet. The streets were mostly empty at that late hour and the smallest sounds perturbed the more peaceful areas in the kingdom.

The red boy was the first to disentangle from the embrace, leaving the fair one in a daze, sweat matting his hair to his forehead and breathing harsh.

"Try not to moan that loudly next time." Jack mischievously chuckled, caressing the side of the younger boy's visage and bringing his lips to his once again, gentle and different compared to his usual rough gestures. The kiss was short and chaste and his mouth hovered a little more above the prince's, before giving him one last cunning smile and turning, leaving the fair boy baffled in his state.

Ralph inhaled, recovering to an extent and regaining his previous calm. He watched the red boy's back as the small shock of what had just happened, and _where_ nonetheless, reared itself in his mind. People could have seen them at any moment and realized what they were doing there, in the middle of the shadowed street.

It had been perilous and he knew Jack didn't care too much about it. But he did. He wanted that thing to happen between him and Jack, whatever it was, despite being twisted and immoral, according to most people's beliefs. He wanted it too much for his own good, but he had to stay in control and be permanently attentive and not lose himself into the red boy's touch like he had done until then. They could have been discovered and only God himself knew what would have happened to them if that occurred.

The fair boy bit his lip and eagerly smiled then quickly followed the deceiving red boy into the darkness of the night, his body still pumping after Jack had confirmed him that they were going to be together in the way Ralph had hoped for. The red boy was difficult and challenging indeed, but he was also the most exciting, and the prince was earnestly awaiting the time that they were going to spend together, as he tried to chase away the dark thoughts that told him about the horrors that could have ensued from all of it.


	4. Turmoil

He remembered that day being one of the more pleasant ones of his childhood. He wasn't taller than his father's sleeve when the golden-haired man decided to show Ralph some of the better parts of the kingdom. That was the only way the young boy could escape the cold, dark walls of the castle; through his father's whim.

He had been astounded by the enormity of the world, by the unalike people they encountered, by the veil of colors the town revealed, the colors of the streets and people, of the trees and the sky, of everything.

It wasn't long before the fair child formed his first friendship; an even smaller girl, brown hair, humble, somewhat dirty. Ralph had liked her though, his six years old self never having been more excited at the idea of having someone his age to accompany him. His father smiled, warm and accepting, a few meters away, while in conversation with a town merchant. He was at a distance, but he still kept a keen eye on his venturing son, in fear that he would mingle with the perilous mass of people.

"This is a very dangerous weapon, my lady." The blonde boy swished his wooden sword around, taking a stance in front of the smiling, shy girl. He could remember her sparkling eyes that followed his rapid movement with a fascination that overpowered her, how he had smiled at her with pride, before he proceeded to stab the air with an unwavering sense of determination, especially for such a young boy.

He worked his small arms with every ounce of strength he possessed, just to impress her, and the girl clapped her hands, her clear laugh resonating through the cold air of the late autumn. The young boy offered her a cheeky grin and politely bowed, to show his gratefulness for her appreciation.

He didn't manage to stand straight again though, because a brute force collided into his side, sending him lurching forward on the parched ground, and making the wooden sword fly a considerable distance away. Ralph gave a cry in pain, as he remained on his knees, breathing harshly and clutching at his bruised torso.

He raised his gaze to see his precious wooden plaything being seized by a large, freckled hand. A bigger shadow blocked out his sun and the young fair child had to scrunch his eyes up in order to see his attacker.

"Fancy sword."

It was a child, just like him, albeit a little older, Ralph could remark. His hair was like fire, but his eyes were the opposite: cold as the cruelest, starkest winter, and their sharpness sent a striking chill through the golden boy, who shuddered under the other boy's aggressive stare. The redhead narrowed his spiteful eyes, as the corners of his thin lips stretched into wicked amusement. His gaze then turned towards the timid girl who looked at the scene in anguish, and the red boy's smile widened at the sight of her obvious fear.

"Is she your sweetheart?" He inquired, showing a pair of sharp canines. "Pretty, but not quite enough."

The fair boy gritted his teeth, a sudden fury surging through him, especially at the sound of the hurt whimper that erupted from the small girl. He pushed on his limbs, and hoisted himself back on his legs, taking an unyielding stance, and bravely scrutinizing the scary looking boy, who was at least a head taller than him. That didn't intimidate him though. Not enough to overcome his fortified will to defend the girl, whose eyes were now prickled by small tears.

"Give me my sword back."

His voice had a slight tremor to it, but the image still made the older boy raise an eyebrow at the unexpected display of courage.

"Very impressive." The fiery boy retorted derisively. He leaned back on the heels of his feet, raising the sword and pointing it towards the smaller boy, who shuffled unnerved at the threat. The air froze around them, and Ralph could sense the heavy hostility increasing to a breaking point. His body itched to step back in cautiousness, but he didn't manage to make another move, because a low, powerful voice interrupted the oncoming violence.

"What in God's name is happening there?"

The fair boy exhaled in relief when the imposing figure of the king himself approached them. He didn't look happy at all. His narrow eyes were downcast with irate looking brows as he glared menacingly at his son's rusty-haired tormentor, who now took the form of what he really was, to Ralph: an inoffensive child that posed no real peril.

Still, the red boy didn't show any trace of distress. He just lowered his arm and stared unmoved at the man who towered over him.

The king stopped when he took note of the boy, and his slight anger turned into bewilderment, his eyes following the lines of the child's physique. Ralph's confusion grew while he tried to perceive the abrupt change in his father's demeanor. He tried to comprehend what was the cause of the change by inspecting the redheaded boy as well, but the only oddity was the fact that the boy seemed to be of noble rank. His dark blue tunic and dark breeches were of obvious quality, similar to Ralph's, but other than that, he couldn't figure out his father's unusual reluctance towards the boy.

"Your grace." The boy's mocking voice was still present, but much less evident, as he bowed in respect. The king shook his head and sighed, as if the boy caused him unease.

"Where are your parents?" He inquired sternly. Ralph watched his father in perplexity, because he had rarely noticed him so serious and harsh before, and never around a child. The king was usually a lighthearted man who liked to jest. It appeared that boy was completely changing his father's disposition, for some unknown reason.

The boy's defying smile remained, and Ralph was astonished by his insolence. He hadn't seen before a person that would even slightly attempt to treat his father as if he wasn't actually the king. As if he was actually on the same level.

"Father is at home. And the last time I saw mother, she was bargaining with a low-class, quite pathetic old man." His insolent smile turned into a disdainful one, as he twisted his features in contempt.

"Show some respect, boy!" The king snapped, peeved. He paused for a moment, as if contemplating an important matter, his brow furrowed in deep thought, and the redheaded boy's grin faded. He threw a fugitive look at Ralph, making the fair boy harden his expression once again.

He couldn't bear the subtle, fierce looks the other boy was sending him right under his father's nose. He even thought he started imagining at one point, because he believed he saw the red boy slightly puckering his lips and making an affectionate gesture towards him, a gesture that Ralph had only experienced from his mother before. It was odd and out of place and he was almost convinced he had imagined it.

The tension was dispersed as his father voiced his intentions.

"Lead me to your mother."

The redheaded boy sharply stared for a moment, tentative and mistrustful, and the king repeated his order impatiently.

"Didn't you hear what I said? Lead the way to your mother, unless you want graver consequences for you." He intimidated the child, who twitched for a flickering second, before he nodded obediently. "Surely, your grace." His rigid voice was unusual for such a young person and it was like all of his previous, wicked amusement had brusquely vanished from his tone of voice, leaving only grim suspicion.

The boy's light eyes provocatively bored into Ralph for the last time, before he turned, along with the king. The fair boy's heart suddenly leaped at the perspective of his father going after that wretched lad. He was a child indeed, just like Ralph himself was, but he sensed that nothing good could have come out of anything related to the scary redheaded boy. And it was as if the king had forgotten about him entirely. He noticed the girl being long gone as well, and a panic filled him at the thought that he would remain there alone, surrounded by strangers, and forgotten by his parents.

His hand instantly sprung and grabbed at his father's sleeve.

"What about me, father?" The golden child fearfully asked. The man abruptly stopped, along with the other boy, and Ralph wanted to yell at him to go away. He just wanted to return home, without the wickedness of anyone intruding his peaceful family.

"Go along with Allister, Ralph." He pointed at a short distance, where the guard that had accompanied them stood like a block of stone near their carriage. The fair boy shook his head fervently, stubbornness clawing at him. "Go." The king insisted firmly. "I have some urgent matters to attend to right now and I don't have time for your childish play anymore." His harsh words were like a clench around the child's heart and the fair boy felt his eyes stinging, but he inhaled and tried not to cry there, not in front of everyone, because he knew he would have ashamed his father. He nodded sourly and felt a large hand tenderly patting his head. His father's last attempt at diminishing the effect of his brutal words.

The fair child then felt himself being lifted by strong hands and pushed into the darkness of the carriage, and the image of his father and that strange boy's backs turned smaller and smaller until it disappeared through the scattered crowd.

He just remembered the king muttering to himself words that confused him at the time and made him wonder, words that he forgot later, despite being imprinted into his mind for quite a long time.

"Deborah Merridew will repent for all her sins."

...

When he thought he saw Jack for the first time, in that court, hung by the arms of his guards, he was so struck by his appearance that he didn't make any bound to anyone he had previously met in his life. His childhood memories were vague, being only made of castle grounds, himself being locked between those walls, and the occasional way out when his father decided to free him. He was aware he had encountered people similar to the red boy, with burning hair and light eyes, he was still vaguely aware of the boy he had met in that day of his childhood, the boy that Ralph believed at the time he had tricked his father into leaving him.

But he had never imagined it would all dawn on him when he would see Jack standing before his father, the coppery-haired boy defying the gold-haired king with his piercing gaze and the same impertinent smile. A smile not as bright as that small boy had had, a smile that was faded somehow, but still. The same smile.

The fair prince had expected the foul glares and whispers, in the moment he had entered the castle grounds along with Jack. He felt uneasy and strained, trickles lightly trailing at the back of his neck. He could barely abstain himself from grabbing the edge of Jack's tunic in an attempt to attain stability, which was slightly ridiculous, because he hadn't felt the need to cling himself to someone since he was a child. Since he hadn't had anyone close for a while, his parents having distanced themselves from him, and his friends being literally nonexistent, he sensed as if Jack was the first person that had gotten close to him in very long time.

He didn't cling to Jack though. It was foolish, because he was the prince and future king, he was supposed to be steady and strong and not be seen as the weakling hanging on to his right-hand. It was known that the right-hand was supposed to help him, advise him, and in this case, even protect him, but Ralph hoped the latter would not be necessary in any instance. Ever.

Jack didn't have the same reactions though. According to Ralph's expectations, he offered his specific, biting commentaries and showed off in his typical Jack manner. Ralph almost burst into laughs, when a couple of young people were scared to death as Jack dashed at them, loudly bragging that he would use his 'sorcerer' powers on them if they stared any longer at him with those beady eyes. The gesture made the majority of the population subtly trying to avoid them, averting their gazes and trying to pretend that they weren't interested in Merridew's arrival.

Ralph foresaw that Jack's presence at the castle would considerably change things around, and he was quite anticipating the turn of events. Naturally, it was inevitable for Jack to cause commotion amongst other people, in every possible way, and Ralph sensed that he was the one who would have to keep Jack in line for the most part.

The fair prince was a step behind the redhead, when he sighted the pale arm that was about to snatch some food from one of the wealthier guests' fastidious plates. Jack quickly aimed for a large piece of boar steak and a cheese cake, and Ralph was remotely surprised as to how the other boy could grab so much with just one hand.

In spite of this startle, the prince's indignation shot him like an arrow and made him react quicker than the boy in front of him. Before Jack could hide the stolen goods into the pockets of his ragged breeches, the fair boy sprinted towards him and grabbed the older boy's forearm in one motion.

"Put those  _back_. You're not here  _to steal_." The fair boy hissed, forest green eyes glaring daggers at the tall boy, who seemed genuinely taken aback for one quick moment. Jack looked down upon him with stunned, hard eyes, and Ralph feared for a split second that he was going to retort back with violence, having forgotten that he wasn't there to rob and beat people. His fears melted away when the red boy's face softened and a vague smirk marked his expression.

"I thoroughly apologize, fancy pants, it almost skipped my mind that I'm not supposed to be offensive to any of these yeasty slugs. You are aware that my custom is to leave this kind of people in their natural birth suits, in the corner of a grimy shadowed street, after robbing them." He grinned, apparently amused by his own wit. The prince glared into the other boy's face as he snatched the goods from Jack's grasp and placed them where they belonged. Jack raised his hands in mock defense.

"I mean it, Jack." The fair boy turned to him, giving the strictest face he could pull off. It felt odd, having to scold the redheaded boy in that manner, because he had never scolded anyone in his life. Usually, he was the one who was being scolded; he was not supposed to be in this reverse, absurd situation. But it seemed that the more he got to know Jack, the more difficult he believed this situation would get. The redhead was too chaotic and untamed, and almost impossibly so, and Ralph could somewhat understand why everyone had heard of him. It wasn't just the Merridew name in itself. It was Jack's ability to leave his trace everywhere he went, through his unusual and unorthodox conduct.

"You must admit it was a bit amusing." Jack spoke, watching the prince's reactions with a particular interest. Ralph huffed and stepped over his dignity, and over his cautiousness of not being closer than necessary to Jack in public, and grabbed his wrist, dragging the red boy after him.

"Come on. Father has been waiting for a while now." He felt Jack's arm tensing under his hand, but the fair boy didn't stop to ponder it. He observed how more than half of the party goers had already dissipated, the remaining people scrutinizing them like curious animals from all sides.

The music was still playing, and Ralph was sure most of them weren't even lucid anymore, which was why he felt it was temporarily safe to act a little inappropriate in front of them. Not that grabbing someone's wrist was inappropriate in any way, but Ralph was so apprehensive about what he and Jack had been doing in private, that he feared everyone could already see through their facades, and the smallest, wrong gestures would have given them away.

His mother had retreated, he regarded. And the king was partially sober, still in conversation with one of his trustworthy men. He saw neither of them, not even after both boys had prompted themselves in front of the royal table. Ralph loudly cleared his voice, so that he could gather his father's attention. For some reason, the fair boy was anxious that a terrible exchange would take place between Jack and the golden-haired man, but it seemed the king was as happy as ever and his disposition didn't change in the slightest at seeing the redheaded boy in front of him. He actually offered a half smile as he measured Jack with foggy eyes.

"Why if it isn't the Merridew heir indeed!" He exclaimed with delight. "Not much of an heir now, given that you will not inherit anything apart from a hellhole of a ruined castle." He grinned wider, and Ralph became nervous at his father's words. He wasn't usually so stinging towards other people, but Jack wasn't anyone.

The striking contrast between the two males reminded him that this wasn't the first encounter that was taking place between Jack and the king, in front of Ralph. Flashes of the young redheaded boy facing the older man passed in front of Ralph's eyes, and it briefly shocked him to acknowledge that Jack was that ginger boy that had attacked him, in his early childhood years.

He felt Jack next to him, clenching and unclenching his fist. Ralph's fingers itched to take the other boy's hand into his own, but he stopped himself from doing the gesture in front of so many people, and especially in front of his father.

"I will be happy with what I can get, your highness." Jack returned a bitter smile, his eyes darkening to an extent. The king regarded him momentarily, as if he had expected Jack's daring behavior.

"I'm glad to hear that. Because you won't need to return to your place anymore. You now belong here, next to my son, to protect him." Discontentment scratched at Ralph's mind after hearing those words that he despised so much, those words that always reminded him his father didn't think he was capable of anything. He wanted to say something on the matter, but the king continued before Ralph opened his mouth.

"After all, your beastly mother is not there anymore, and your father can handle his own lamenting self."

The fair boy leaped surprised, along with several other people whose gasps echoed in the large room, as Jack almost bolted towards the king, fists tight and face red in a startling rage. Ralph quickly grabbed the other boy's clenched hand in panic and stopped him, before the scene descended into something worse than it already was. He gave Jack's fist a light squeeze to distract him from his destructive fury, and a sudden calm took over the older boy.

Jack exhaled and slowly relaxed his hand, before he cast a rapid look at Ralph, in what seemed like silent gratitude. The prince gently nodded at him, then turned towards his father wide-eyed, not believing the cruelty that he was displaying towards Jack. The king's initial amusement was completely wiped off of his figure now, his harsh gaze burning into the red boy.

"Did you actually think I would be kind and friendly to you, after what your mother had done, my boy?" The corners of his mouth curled downwards. "I can see you have grown to be as wicked and deceiving as her, and probably even worse, since your mind is plagued by your father's lunacy as well." He boomed, his lips tightening into a single, angry line. "That is why you will be on my side. I will not allow any Merridew to stray away from the right path, this time. You will stand for my son and you will serve his needs, at all times. You will defend him from monsters that are worse than you. If I hear anything about disrespecting your duties to my son, I will have your head in no time. Do you understand?"

It was as if the entire room held its breath, while the two males battled with their silent wrath. The king's heavy one weighed down on the younger man's shoulders, while waiting for his decisive answer. Even though it wasn't much of an answer, Ralph pondered, but more of a death choice. He felt sickly regret clenching and twisting in his gut, at the thought that he was to blame for all of this. If he hadn't made Jack be his right-hand in the first place, none of this would have happened. He could have simply released Jack from his prison, without offering him that position. Now Jack was in an even worse situation than his previous one, and the fair boy quivered on the inside, as the sorrow caught his chest in a painful grip.

"I suppose I have no choice." Jack's rough voice reverberated into the stone walls. "I will be at the prince's will." He morbidly responded, the anger still in his voice, and a strange madness lighting his eyes.

"Good," The king shot back. "Now go and make yourself presentable, because I will not tolerate that poor clothing between the walls of my castle. And wash yourself of the dirt and of that blood on your face. Your violent behavior will not be welcomed anymore, except at command."

...

There was a nagging feeling of dread as the fair boy walked down the hall that led to Jack's chamber. It was on the ground floor of the castle, two levels lower than Ralph's floor, and he felt his stomach contents sway in anxiousness. His guilt consumed him, inside and out.

After the confrontation between the king and his son's right-hand took place, Jack was dismissed to be bathed and clothed properly, while Ralph was held back in the Great Hall by his father. It wasn't long before the king returned to his pleasant, cheery self, sending his humor left and right. He spoke to Ralph almost too little after the appalling encounter, mostly making references to how Ralph was supposed to inform the king every time Jack Merridew strayed from his path. Ralph promised his father that he would, before he excused himself and disappeared into the dark corridors of the castle.

He could hear his loud breath as he ran down the hall, towards the chambers at the end of it. He didn't know for sure which one of those rooms was Jack's, but he had a hunch, because he saw a light peering through the narrow opening of an ajar door. He paused in front of it and swallowed nervously, then opened it with a loud screeching sound. It was one of the poorest chambers, just as the fair boy had suspected. One bed with old covers, a table with one chair, both eaten by time, and yellowish, almost gray walls.

The state of the room wasn't the one that kept his attention at the moment though, but the image of the young man who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Ralph's heart almost dropped to lodge in his throat, as Jack's naked torso was revealed in all its glory, his muscles clenching as his arm rubbed with a damp cloth at the wound on his jaw. His body was slim, but hardened at the same time, probably by the roughness of his previous life on the street, by the physical exertion he had committed to survive in jarring conditions. In spite of his physical appeal - Ralph had to admit, his body was physically appealing, even more so than his own, which woke up a hint of jealousy inside the fair boy- Ralph noticed the scars that adorned his pallid skin. There weren't too many, but they were distinct and visible, and Ralph couldn't help but wonder.

"Will you stare much longer?"

Color rose in the fair boy's cheeks as the older one suddenly turned his gaze in his way, his pale eyes shifting up and down the prince. There wasn't any trace of hilarity in Jack's gaze, not wickedness, not sarcasm, not genuine amusement, nothing. Ralph was so used to see him at least smirk, or smile in some sort of way, that he was almost shocked at the aloof air the red boy had around him.

Ralph closed his door with a low clang, before he tentatively approached him.

"Jack, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." He spoke gravely. The pounding in his chest was too strong, like something was struggling to get out of him, a heavy and intense remorse. "I just thought it would do you good, if I acquired you to work for me." Jack's gaze was impenetrable and hard, and Ralph had the impression that the ice in his eyes was stabbing at his mind. "I had never thought that my father would do such a thing. That he would make you decide between dying by choosing freedom or dying for me. And in such a ruthless manner, nonetheless." They gazed at each other in silence, and Ralph's fingers lightly moved, waiting for Jack to respond to his words. He could not bear that the other boy would turn his back to him, after his hopes had been raised regarding their intimacy. He couldn't bear the idea of a Jack that would be by his side only physically, but not mentally.

The prince's heart skipped an abnormal beat when Jack sighed and turned his gaze away.

"It's not your fault. It's something that has nothing to do with you, in all truth. Or me, for that matter."

Ralph's curiosity was piqued, and his befuddlement climbed to higher ground. He wanted to ask, but he abstained himself. The red boy had passed through a tumult, too soon, so he didn't address the issue for the time being, even though he kept in mind to ask Jack later about this secrecy between him and the king, regarding his family, and his mother in particular. It was baffling to Ralph, what could have Jack's mother done so atrocious, that his own father had been so scandalized by her. He left the questions to better times.

He remarked how Jack was dabbing at the wrong spot on his face, the wound being lower. The dried blood was still on the lower part of his face, stretching under his jaw. Ralph's teeth nervously dug into his lip as he came closer and gently grasped at the cloth in the other boy's hand, making him look up in surprise.

"Just let me, alright?" The fair boy inquired. "You're not doing it very well." It was as if he had thrown a pebble into a lake, because his initiative had changed Jack's entire expression. His stony features lessened, his mouth curling into his usual, lightly provocative smile. That appeased Ralph somehow, because that reaction was Jack-like indeed.

The fair boy remained on his feet and positioned himself in front Jack, washing the cloth, then slightly beginning to clean the wound that he himself had caused. There was guilt, but also pride all the same, pride that he had been capable of causing such a good bruise on an older and more experienced male in these matters. He tried to concentrate on softly dabbing at the skin, but it was getting difficult, because an arm subtly looped around his waist, gently caressing. It rested there for moments, while the prince hardly worked, and Ralph's breath stuck in his throat when the other boy's hand started groping lower.

"We cannot do this now, it's risky," His own hand weakly went behind him to grab at Jack's arm and stop him, but it was to no avail, because it was like all of his strength was gone. His legs and arms went limp, and there was a certain, heady thrill that filled him, as Jack buried his face into his chest.

"Come on. It's not like anyone would dare to come into my chamber." The muffled voice came from within his tunic. A small sound erupted from within the fair boy as Jack dug his fingers into the flesh of his bottom. He paused for a moment, conflicted, before he grabbed at the older male's red curls, bringing his face up and closing the distance between them. It felt good, too good, kissing him, sliding their tongues along the seams of each other's mouths, and he gasped needy, against the soft sweep of Jack's tongue into his open mouth. Jack tugged him even closer in between his legs, working his arse with calloused hands, and Ralph shivered into his mouth, his own hands resting on Jack's shoulders, steadying himself so he wouldn't fall over in daze. It wasn't long before a hand went up along his back, and roughly grabbed at his tunic, twisting him around and throwing him into the old mattress, and the frame of the bed groaned when they collapsed into it, sounding out a protest Ralph could barely hear over the rough saw of their breathing, the wet sound of their mouths, the rush of blood in his ears.

Ralph had still barely gotten used to it - the fact that Jack was kissing him and touching him, that his  _tongue_  was in Ralph's  _mouth_  - licking his way into the fair boy like he wanted nothing more than to climb inside him and feel him from the inside out, when he felt the redhead push the front of his breeches into his own, more powerful than the first time they'd done it, on the dungeons' stairs. He felt their crotches fully pressed together for the first time, and he moaned at the feverish touches, the need only becoming stronger. His hands blindly roamed over the other boy's shoulders, over his back and his scars, and all the hard angles of his body, which made the redhead rock his hips into Ralph's more fiercely, moving in a way lewd enough to make the fair boy flush and color, even after all they'd done together. He heard Jack groan into his golden hair and Ralph retorted with his own desperate sounds, that were apparently encouraging for the older boy, because he vaguely sensed Jack lifting himself to open at the front of his breeches with one hand, while his other fumbled with the laces that belonged to Ralph's ones.

"Hurry," The fair boy urged him, sweat falling down his skin, and chest almost imploding, anticipating the moment their skin would touch there. He was deliriously hard and almost boiled in impatience, his hand dashing to do it himself, when a loud knock at the door broke the entire spell.

It didn't end up with them having the good time that the prince had been waiting for, but with Ralph bolting up like he had burned himself, his skull clashing into Jack's face and making the redhead grab at his nose with a pained hiss.

"Bloody fuck!"

The blond pushed the other boy away and sprung out of bed, while quickly tying the laces of his breeches, silently motioning for Jack to do the same, but it appeared the red boy was too busy clutching at his now bleeding nose and muttering swears under his breath. Ralph tried to pay him no heed as he quickly arranged his clothes and smoothed his hair, managing in making himself somewhat presentable, and trying to put his prick down while thinking about horrible and disgusting things, before he opened the door, and offered a strained smile.

"Oh, your grace, I didn't know you were here." An elderly woman widened her eyes at the sight of him, "I was just told to fetch some licorice for lord Merridew's wound, if there are important matters, I will return later, I assure-"

"There's no need, we were done here anyway." Ralph quickly reassured her, internally resenting the inappropriate timing of the servant. It wasn't as if she was particularly to blame for ending up there at the exact moment when he and Jack were about to take it further in their snogging sessions. He breathed out, trying not to scowl at the woman, before he stepped to the side, permitting her to go in. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly at the state of Jack's face.

"I was told you only had one wound, my lord, I didn't know there were two. And one of them is still bleeding too, my goodness!" The red boy grimly grunted, his eyes still trained on Ralph's retreating form. The fair boy threw him a critical look behind the woman's back, his mind set on fleeing the place before any suspicions arose to the woman, since there were some particular traces of their prohibited act. Like their still disheveled appearances and the fact that the bed's sheets were in a particular state of disarray. He went out on the dimly lit, inky hall, and his anguish and weariness ate him from inside, but he still managed to slightly smile at the scandalized screech that burst out of Jack's chamber.

"Tie the laces of your breeches in this instant, my lord!"


	5. Deceit

The woods were still that day. He searched for any trace of movement, but there was nothing of the sorts. The fair boy narrowed his pale eyes and observed the blend of different shades of green and orange and brown, interwoven to form the intimidating labyrinth that temporarily trapped him. And his potential prey.

He carefully stepped over a rug of leaves that crunched underneath his feet and twisted his features in frustration. Straightening his posture, his right hand tightly clutched at the arrow, while his left supported his bow, and he felt sweat stream down his brow in concentration. Then he spotted it. Right there.

It was a moderately large boar, and just appropriate for two evening meals. Perfect as the prince's catch. Grunting and sniffing at a patch of dry branches and dead leaves, pushing his snout into his own meal for the day, the boar was completely unaware of his presence.

Hunting wasn't one of Ralph's most entertaining activities, but it still felt overwhelmingly good when he managed to make his own catch. He was rewarded with praise from various subalterns, and his father occasionally offered him a look of appreciation when the fair boy's prey was impressive. That boar wasn't massive in size, although Ralph still sensed he was going to receive the ovation he longed for, so he hardened and concentrated on his work with fierce determination.

He knew he was close. Too close in fact. The animal was in plain sight now, no earthly disguise shielding him, and he prepared his arrow. He closed in, scrunching one eye, his tongue slightly trailing over his lower lip, while focusing his entire attention on the target. He could hit right into the boar's heart, if he moved just slightly to the left.

Except none of that happened.

A rough, savage cry suddenly broke the silence around and a flock of birds took off from the nearby trees at the terrifying sounds. Startled, Ralph shot his arrow much further from his actual target and his mouth hung open in shock.

The boar was squealing and struggling as he was currently being held with force and stabbed by this lanky, mad prick who had just jumped on him and messily slashed at his insides with wild, brutish movements. Blood burst out and sprayed the red boy's face, his clothes and everything around, and he gave a satisfied grin and wiped his bloodied brow once the squealing died down.

Ralph grimaced at the whole mess, then approached, fists tight at his sides and mouth just a furious line.

"Jack!"

The redheaded boy looked up and offered him a devious grin, before pulling the knife out of the boar's belly and raising it in front of him in a gesture of triumph.

"You cannot match my talent, prissy pants." He smiled wider as he dangled the dripping weapon in front of him like it was cutlery. Ralph wrinkled his nose in disgust at the repulsive picture and crossed his arms peeved.

"Yes, indeed, I do not have the talent to destroy everything I touch in such a beastly manner." He bit back ironically, barely holding back from just turning away from his untamed guard-dog. Ralph felt somewhat guilty for attributing such a lowly title to Jack, but that was his true image in the kingdom at the time. And Ralph couldn't help but see him in that way too, since the prince had been taught like it his whole life.

Whether personal guard or guard-dog, these titles were all the same to the people from court. It was a better position than a servant or a common knight, but it was still seen as lowly, given that people who were hired as personal guards usually acted and looked like brutes. The only thing that slightly improved Jack's reputation was the fact that the prince had also assigned him as right-hand. Though Ralph knew Jack didn't care much about his image. Or at all, since Jack had been called worse things.

It was also better than the position of a mad thief.

Then there was the issue of Jack's savage ways to handle various situations, despite that he'd been part of a wealthy family once. He still had the title of a lord, but it seemed he'd either forgotten about the manners that he'd been raised with, or he had simply decided to let go of them.

In any case, Ralph felt that he had to contribute to Jack's education once again, if he didn't want to make a fool out of himself for having such a wildling by his side.

"I admit I take some pride in my talent of destroying things as well," Jack raised one challenging eyebrow, "Including those pretty clothes of yours." He finished lightly threatening, standing up from his crouching position and closing in on Ralph, who slightly tensed at the other boy's intrusion.

"I hope you won't do what I'm suspecting, because you won't get alive out of this, I assure you." The prince widened his eyes and took a defensive stance as he stepped back. He slightly jumped when he heard another patch of dry leaves crunch under his foot and he inwardly scolded himself for his rabbit-like fear of Jack's petty threat.

"Do not tell me you are afraid of some little blood on your magnificent cloak, my prince." The red boy grinned, taking further steps in tandem with Ralph's tentative, backwards ones. Ralph swallowed heavily as panic suddenly descended on him, in spite of all his efforts to remain unmoved by the twat's menace. He knew he wouldn't escape the curse of the stain on his clothing, no matter what he did or said. He still couldn't give up though.

"Don't do it, Jack." He desperately tried another method. Bribing. It had to work with someone as unprincipled as Jack. "I promise I will give you all my lunch meat today."

Jack laughed at his choice of manipulation. And it wasn't his usual, wicked laugh that he only gave when someone was hurt or being made fun of. It was genuine; loud. With his head thrown back, hands clutching at sides, and tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

"Good God," He spoke through harsh intakes of breath. "Do you actually think that's my entire reason to live? Meat?" He burst out again and Ralph furrowed his brow and reddened in aggravation when he realized that he'd been somewhat wrong. The slug was actually _mocking_ _him_. He found Jack's slip an opportunity to escape his attack though, so he attempted to turn and flee the place, but to no avail.

He couldn't walk five feet, because Jack was already on him, gathering him in his arms. The prince gave a cry in frustration as he thrashed and pushed at the other boy's chest and face, trying to remove him from himself.

"Not on my tunic!" He twisted around and fought to escape Jack's smothering embrace, but the redheaded boy chuckled as he held on tighter. He sneaked his arms around the small of Ralph's waist and puckered his lips.

"You're so precious when you get all worked up." He lazily commented, ignoring Ralph's struggle. The fair boy flushed, his mouth curling down in defeat, before he cringed at the stickiness on his clothes. He sharply turned his head when the older boy leaned in to kiss him.

"I'm not kissing you like this, it's _disgusting_." He hissed, but Jack grunted in displeasure at his refusal and roughly grabbed his chin to bring their mouths together.

The fair boy moaned in both complaint and delight as Jack roughly pushed in between his lips, forcing his tongue into Ralph's reluctant mouth. He completely opened once the other boy broke through. Working their mouths together in a hungry kiss, he nipped at Ralph's lower lip, harsh and insistent, and the prince shuddered at the small pain that sparked beneath Jack's teeth.

He couldn't believe the hurry with which he was submitting. He almost completely let aside the disgust that he harboured for their current state. He just wanted to bring his own arms around Jack's neck, wanted to feel Jack's fiery locks beneath his fingers, but he couldn't move freely in the tight embrace. Jack was still holding him as if he was distrustful that Ralph would push away and manage to escape him if he loosened his grip.

So Ralph ended up flattening his palms against the older boy's chest instead, fingers curled within the material of his tunic, and trying to push his own tongue back into Jack's mouth, fighting against the kiss with fervour. Jack released a sound of amusement at the smaller boy's growing confidence and brought his thumb and forefinger to open Ralph's mouth wider, thrusting back more fiercely, thoroughly overthrowing Ralph's attempt at power. Keening at the sudden intensity of the kiss, Ralph squirmed a little, and before he knew it, he found himself being tackled to the forest floor.

They ended up rolling in a tangle of limbs, their grunting cut-off by Ralph's yelps of surprise and Jack's laughter. The heave had been so sudden that he didn't realize when Jack had trapped him underneath.

For moments, they simply panted and stared at each other, Ralph's expression wary and vulnerable, while Jack was triumphantly smiling down at him, cold eyes alighted with mirth. The fair boy could see the individual drops of sweat collecting in the hollow of Jack's throat. Unbidden, the thought sprung to his mind that he would have liked to lick that sweat away, that he was dying to. Jack was always so confident, even downright aggressive, and he always dominated in one way or another. The invasive thought just ignited his aversion. His _fury._

So he slightly stood and brought his mouth to Jack's throat, digging his teeth into the pale skin there, completely throwing Jack off for one quick moment. The red boy offered a half-aroused growl, his body brusquely hardening with an almost _animalistic_ wrath. He twisted out of Ralph's grasp and easily pushed him into the ground again; captured his arms and pinned them above his head, the weight of his body now holding Ralph immobile.

"Think you can have the upper hand, your highness?" He grinned bitingly, ferociously, before he dropped to shove his canines into the fair boy's clammy throat, right below the jugular.

Ralph broke into cries as he brought his head back into the earth. Jack steadily shifted around, stretching the fair boy's arms higher, before he pushed Ralph's knees apart with his leg, and Ralph could feel his heavy arousal through his breeches, pushing into his thigh; his arousal at having the smaller boy submitted, just like a beast that had succeeded in catching its prey.

Their breathing was faster, rougher, and there was nothing he could do then. He was under absolute control, he was subdued by Jack's movement, by his pelvis that was pressing into his own, by Jack's slow, shameless grinding. He opened his mouth to find his breath.

Soon enough, the air was filled with his moaning and Jack's coarse speech, and a vague warning floated at the back of his mind. They were still in an area of the woods that commoners still frequented. Though he couldn't bring himself to be sensible right then, he was too caught up in the act, too lost.

He thought they were going to succeed this time. He was convinced by it.

It was then that his head crashed into Jack's face for the second time. It would have made him laugh if the approaching carriages hadn't already panicked him. Jack was knocked onto his back and his string of curses echoed around as he grabbed at his face and howled in pain.

"Why don't you maim me already and be done with it?!" He grumbled in irritation, but the fair prince was too alarmed to take his words into consideration. He just stood up in a hurry and fidgeted with his clothes, twisting his face in frustration at the blood that was now marked into them.

He hoped the people that were heading in their direction wouldn't be able to recognize him, though it was a very slim chance, since his clothes were too sophisticated for any commoner. He noted that Jack was still lying on the ground, displaying an attitude of indifference towards the peril that threatened their situation; and a dramatic self-pity. Indignation filled him and he quickly tapped his boot into Jack's side.

"Get up already!" He fretted and bent to grab the red boy by the front of his tunic in order to hoist him up from his indolent position on the ground, but Jack appeared to be unmovable. He offered a taunting smile and regarded Ralph in his usual contemptuous fashion while the prince struggled to move him. To Ralph's frustration, he ended up losing his balance and falling over the bigger boy, knocking the air out of both; he gave to stand up again but found himself trapped by Jack's hands that crept over the back of his thighs and kept him there.

This was honestly becoming overly ridiculous and embarrassing.

"When will you learn to listen to me?!" The prince flushed and wriggled, but his movement just wasn't favourable at the moment, hence it was waking reactions in both of them. Jack looked like he was on the verge of spurting another erection; his hands slowly trailed over the back of Ralph's thighs, up, until they reached his rear and tightly squeezed under his cloak.

"We haven't quite finished what we've started, have we," Jack lowly retorted, indecent amusement grazing his tone.

Ralph reddened in both aggravation and inappropriate excitement. He felt his own dick rousing and starting to dig into Jack's belly, which made the older boy smirk at him and slowly push his shameful arousal up, between Ralph's legs; his mind was veiled in a haze and he tried to concentrate on the alarming situation at hand, but he couldn't help but release a small sound as Jack began rubbing himself there, at the joining of his thighs. It was something that felt too unbearable and disgraceful to do, especially out in the open, despite that they were clothed.

He had never considered such a peculiar sexual gesture between them or between any two persons ever, he had never known it to be possible, especially when it came to two lads. The image of them in the same position but naked quickly passed in front of his eyes, and his limbs slackened as more warm haze griped him.

It was bad, he was letting himself be carried away at the worst possible time. He could vaguely hear their moaning rising in the open space around and he could hear the distressing noise of the approaching carriages turning louder and louder. He fought to return to reality; but Jack was still rocking into him and he was rubbing himself against Jack too, and they were dead. He knew they were, but still couldn't stop himself.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip as he sensed his release getting closer. Jack roughly tightened his hold on his bottom and forcefully brought himself up; his erection tightly pressed against the line of Ralph's arse, through the material, and the fair boy came into his smallclothes. Shuddering and trying to keep himself as quiet as possible, biting into the flesh of his already reddened mouth until it bled. His eyes watered as the whole sensation passed over him like an earthquake. Shook him from his very depths. He'd had a few releases in his life, but never like this one.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Jack looking up at him, flushed and seemingly satiated as well, pale blue eyes narrowed in smug fulfilment.

"Hell, you feel the best out of all the prissies I've done until now. And I haven't even properly done you yet. I haven't come so quickly ever since the times I was sprinting into a proper lad." He idly commented, lightly passing his hands over Ralph's thighs and arse and waist in a soft caress. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever had the chance to touch." The fair boy's heart beat faster at the words of his lover and his cheeks got warmer at the acknowledgement. At the term his mind had used to describe the other boy.

Jack was his lover, he couldn't deny that, and he knew they would be considered too young to be committing such things, but they were too swept by each other. Jack had mostly been the only thing that had occupied his mind ever since he intruded his life, and he could see in Jack's eyes that he felt too much for him already.

He leaned in and pushed his mouth on Jack's, and he felt the corners of Jack's mouth twisting upwards into the kiss, his arms taking Ralph in a strong embrace. Ralph faintly whimpered into the older boy's mouth and completely loosened for moments, until panic broke into his mind again. He had entirely forgotten about the procession that had been nearing them. He broke the kiss and listened.

The woods were still once more, so it seemed those people had chosen another route to carry their way on. He released a heavy breath in relief.

"I believe I ought to have told you that I know these woods like the back of my hand, so I was aware from the very beginning that they wouldn't pass through here." Jack interfered at seeing the other boy's agitation. Ralph scowled at him.

"Do you mean to say you have let me torment myself all this time?" He inquired peeved. Jack gave a short laugh.

"It did make our affair more exciting, did it not?"

The prince huffed and harshly pushed into Jack's chest in an effort to distance himself from him, and the red boy grunted as his air flow was cut off for one quick moment. Ralph went to gather his arrows and bow and morphed his expression into ice-cold.

"Just grab that mess of a boar that you have made and follow me back to the castle. Unless you want to stay here and spend the rest of your life as the savage you are." His words were stinging and harsh, but he was too hurt to care. Jack was constantly ridiculing him and taking him for a fool, so he felt he needed to separate himself from him, at least for a few days. He need to teach Jack what respect meant. If slightly maltreating him was what it took, then he was more than prepared to act like it.

He tried to ignore Jack's hardened features and slightly wounded stare and turned to follow the path they had come onto. The way back seemed longer and the air was tense, especially because they weren't walking side by side, like they had done when they'd left the castle. They had laughed and kidded, almost like two friends. Now Jack was trailing a few meters behind him, carrying the boar on his shoulders, the perfect image of servility.

Ralph knew this was devouring Jack's pride, it was torturing him from the inside. He knew it without even turning to look at him. Jack could have simply refused to listen to Ralph's orders, but he seemed to have a strong belief that he would be severely punished if he disobeyed. This instilled slight guilt in Ralph because he would never tell on Jack, no matter what Jack did. He would find his own personal punishment for him, but he would never talk to his father about Jack's forms of punishment.

Because his father would most surely order for Jack to be whipped or other horrifying correction methods, without even taking Ralph's opinions into consideration. And Ralph couldn't bear that. He couldn't bear Jack passing through great suffering because of him.

He sensed other people's stares on them. The prince was sure it was mostly the state of their clothes and Jack's intimidating looks. He was almost too tall already, and his red hair was a disturbing contrast to the blood that covered him. Then there was the considerably large, dead wild boar that was lying on his shoulders and leaving a trail of red in its path.

When they entered castle grounds, he tensed considerably at the looks nobility were throwing in their way. Naturally, they didn't escape the foul-natured whispers either, and he attempted to ignore them as usual.

What he couldn't ignore though was the king himself approaching them, his apparition too intimidating and majestic to be disregarded. He observed people around nervously bowing and quickly putting themselves out of his path. The king offered them no attention. His gaze was hard-hearted as it quickly passed over him and fell on Jack.

"So I see you're a natural at making your own catch too, boy." He severely spoke, lightly twisting his features in revulsion. "Not very principled though." He carried on. "Not that I expected you to be." He subtly mocked and Ralph sensed Jack turning rigid behind him.

"And I'm glad you don't have particular expectations of me, your grace. For the reason that I don't intend to change my ways too soon." Jack retorted in his typically snide manner. Ralph still couldn't understand his attitude. Jack was watchful of the potential punishment the king could have inflicted on him, and yet he still disrespected him to great levels.

"I hope you do, though." The king's glare darkened. "If you hold on to your dear life and want to prosper in this kingdom."

Ralph felt the air getting denser as the red boy moved past him and closed in on the king, facing him with a defiant, even challenging stance, his cold eyes directly meeting the older man's impenetrable gaze.

"Perhaps I don't, your grace." He bit back. "Now, if you'll excuse me," He kept holding the older man's angry stare as he side-stepped him and sought to continue his way to the lower grounds of the castle, where the kitchens resided, in order to dispose of the dead beast on his shoulders. The fair man and his son watched him until the red boy's form disappeared through a door at the end of the open corridor.

Ralph tightened his mouth, mentally preparing himself for any order related to torture, but his father just exhaled in impatience.

"He is fortunate that he has those looks." The king commenced, softening as he returned to Ralph, "He is very unnerving, even menacing if I must say so. Which is the only reason I hold back from severely punishing him for his insolence." Ralph felt his stomach clenching like a fist at his father's vague threat, but gathered his eyebrows into a line, somewhat confused by his statement.

"This effect of intimidation that he has over people," He paused, the intensity in his eyes fading, "It will just cease if I order for him to be whipped or beaten. People will see he doesn't have that much power after all, and they will not be afraid of him anymore." He concentrated his attention on his son.

"And I need people to be afraid of him. For you, Ralph. Because he has to protect you."

The fair boy watched his father, wide-eyed, almost not believing his words. He was in awe at how Jack was somehow, indirectly manipulating his father to the point where the king didn't strike him for his disrespect and unruly behaviour. This shock was mostly due to the fact that the king had always punished people for the smallest mistakes.

He was at ease all the same, because his father had just confirmed he was not that easily set on delivering death and torture sentences on Jack. But the king's sense of protectiveness for him had increased too much, and it damaged the fair boy terribly. It damaged him that his father wasn't trusting him and it looked like he never would. He had proved himself countless times until then and he understood that parents had this heightened sense of keeping their offspring as safe as possible. But not even his mother acted like this.

It just brought him to despair. Pure, complete despair. Indignation welled up in his chest.

"I know he must protect me father, but only in extreme situations. I am very much capable of defending myself, I don't need someone to stand by my side at all times." He protested. "I mostly hired Jack to help me with various kingdom matters, not to act like my nurse maid!" A sense of perseverance grew in his mind; he had to insist on these issues with his father. He had never spoken out loud against this anguish and he felt like he could not hold back anymore. He had to make him understand.

His father acted as if he was immovable though. He laid a hand on the fair boy's shoulder.

"I know, Ralph." He calmly retorted. "I know you are capable. But I'm still worried for you. I need to make sure you're safe, because you will rule this kingdom one day. And because you are my son." He squeezed lightly. "I have seen that you have started growing up, but I still feel you're not prepared yet." It was like hot iron clasping his heart in a numbing grip. Twisting it. Yanking it in his chest. It felt wonderful, seeing his father treating him so familiarly, so affectionately. Realizing that he'd been wrong when he had thought his father hadn't changed after so much time of being away. Because he _had_ changed. But the king's wrong, deeply-rooted conceptions were the same. Still too hurtful.

"I'm glad after all that you have chosen Merridew to be your right-hand. In this way, I can somewhat tame his brutal nature through you. Because you're the only one that seems to control him to an extent." Ralph slightly flinched at the words. His fingers twitched and his nails softly prodded into the skin of his palm, guilt mauling his conscience once again. The king always managed to remind him that he was the one to blame for Jack's unfortunate situation. For the fact that he had brought Jack into the whole upheaval by assigning him to work for him at the castle. That Jack had no other choice anymore, apart from being the prince's servant. Ralph had wanted Jack to willingly work for him, not to be constrained by death choices.

"I don't know how you have succeeded in bringing him under your word. It's almost surprising to me, seeing him follow you like that; looking almost humble, which is a shocking display for any Merridew. This is something that not even I, as king with the power of death in my hands, have managed in my whole life. Or my father, with the previous generation of Merridews. No person from that family has ever acted like this towards anyone, and yet this boy almost behaves as if he cares enough to listen to you at times." The king continued his discourse without taking notice of the conflicting feelings that were slowly making their way on the fair boy's face. He stiffened, because the king was approaching dangerous matters regarding the relationship between him and Jack, and he wasn't even aware of it. Ralph hoped he would never be aware.

"And I've seen he's one hell of a devil, even more so than his mother was. It must be quite difficult to control him. And yet you have this power over him," He paused, measuring Ralph with some sort of newborn admiration in his gaze. He smiled warmly for the first time in the last days. "It's good that you two have befriended. I feel like this is the start of a bright era shining upon us." He gifted his son with a few, last amiable pats on his shoulder, then went on his way, leaving Ralph in the middle of the alley; rather stricken, but pondering over his father's lines.

He had originally thought Jack occasionally listened to him out of fear of the king's punishment. But his behaviour in that day and the king's observations completely disregarded these certainties.

He knew Jack must have cared about him in the same way Ralph did care for Jack, even though he almost never showed it in any other way except when he snogged Ralph senseless every time he got into the mood. His guiltiness for mistreating Jack earlier ground at him, but he had to think about how he had never treated Jack badly, while Jack had always shown a particular disdain for him.

Ralph tried to shove aside the futile feeling, and stay angry with Jack. No words from anyone, not even his father, would move him from his decision of treating Jack with harsh indifference right then. He was still too upset with him. There was also the fact that people would eventually wonder about their relationship if they became too friendly in front of everyone. He had to restrain himself more and maintain distance once in a while. And Jack needed to learn this tactic too.

The prince released his mind of thoughts of the older boy and just went to change out of his bloodied clothing, the last reminder that Jack had touched him in that morning. He just didn't want to see or think about him anymore for the rest of the day.

…

Time passed slowly. It was difficult avoiding Jack, but he did it. He pulled Jack out of his thoughts.

Ralph often used to hold conversations with people that served at the castle, because of his sociable nature. This mostly occurred out of the lack of having anything better to do and out of mere curiosity, hence the reason why he had never managed in getting particularly close to anyone. People regarded him with admiration and respect, but Ralph had never befriended them. Maybe because he was just too proud for it, he had to admit that to himself.

He appreciated the common class for the hard work they subjected themselves to for the nobility and royalty, but he was still held back by this inner distaste that he held for people who'd received less education than him. He had been raised under the influence of his father for almost all his life, so this distaste came along with his education and royal blood. He could call it snobbery, mayhaps. One of his greatest faults.

Still, he noted how his mother was much humbler in this matter, and used to treat all people as if they were her equal. That's why Ralph had always praised her. She'd always been able to separate her social position from her pride and feelings. The fact that she was the queen had never much affected her. Nothing ever influenced her in a bad manner, not even the wealth and power that came along with her marriage to the king. She'd been wealthy before too, but the change that the union had brought was even greater. And yet she was still the same gracious and benevolent woman. She was something out of this world, something different from all the people that Ralph had encountered.

Ralph knew many of these things from the whispers and the stories that floated around. He couldn't understand though how he had never heard more stories on the Merridew family, given that they were so infamous in the kingdom and probably beyond borders. It could have been due to the fear that people had of the superstitions tied to their name.

The fair boy had a few small attempts that day at bringing the family into the conversations with some of the servants, but they just furtively retreated and avoided the matter as politely as they could, just like everyone else had done until then. Ralph tautened with impatience and frustration and he just resorted to more solitary activities afterwards. Horse riding and hacking at wooden pillars with his sword in the back of the courtyard seemed quite satisfying for the remainder of the day.

In the morning, he felt like he could not handle Jack's absence anymore. After quickly throwing his usual tunic and breeches on him, without even bothering to take his cloak on anymore, he headed for Jack's chamber. He had expected him not to be there, obviously. The chamber was empty and messy, as the other boy always left it ever since he had moved in. The prince exhaled annoyed.

There were days in which it was a challenge to find Jack. He wasn't by Ralph's side from the first hour of the morning, like a personal guard should be; wittily avoided his responsibilities. In spite of this, Jack never ventured too far. Not outside castle grounds at least, which Ralph was quite thankful for, because then the king's wrath would have issued. Wrath for Jack's disobedience and for Ralph leaving the castle alone to search for the other boy once again. The prince had been permitted by the king to occasionally leave the place, but only with Jack by his side, as Ralph had foreseen.

Ralph feared that Jack had gone too far indeed this time, but he was wrong. After not much searching, a group of people gathered his attention near the front of the courtyard. They acclaimed and laughed, and the fair boy swam his way through them. Some of them tended to protest and throw Ralph foul looks, but immediately stepped aside once they remarked he was the prince. As Ralph reached the inner of the circle he stopped, stunned. There was Jack, putting up a play for everyone, right in the middle of the large ring.

The fair boy couldn't believe his eyes as Jack extraordinarily made the knife in his possession appear in his left hand, then his right, before suddenly wrenching it out of the side of his breeches, with an ease and nonchalance that astounded everyone around.

There were people that watched the show shocked and scared, but fascinated all the same, and people who laughed enchanted and curious, and many more who truly regarded him petrified. Jack still seemed to inspire terror due to this reputation, but these public acts appeared to bring him closer to the rest of the world. After one final trick of yanking the knife from inside his left booth, the red boy bowed and the crowd applauded and whistled, as Jack offered them a devious grin. He quickly stood straight again and Ralph leapt when the older boy suddenly pointed towards him.

"Much gratitude for your prince, whose kindness brought me here to reveal to you a small part of these powers that I possess." The fair boy felt shame cut through him at the obvious ridicule in the other boy's tone of voice. He tightened his jaw and glared at Jack through fair locks, but he quickly remembered how most stares were on him right then, how most applause was for him in that brief moment.

Ralph strained his cheeks for a painful smile and feigned joy, before he hurried to retreat. It seemed impossible to escape the crowd right then though. The mob began swarming around him and smothering him with praise and affection and he felt like going mad. There had been similar times in his life, when people had mostly suffocated him for his beauty, but he felt like he could not stand it right then. All of that was Jack's doing.

People were appreciating him because of Jack, and he knew he had wanted that at the beginning, when he had imagined how the world would respect and fear him more because of his powerful right-hand, but he hated it then. He knew he wasn't deserving of it, he knew it was all just a lie, and he saw how Jack was just relishing all of it. How Jack welcomed people around him, how he deceived and manipulated them, and loved it. How he proclaimed himself to be the sorcerer that they had both planned him to be and how people backed away in fright, but were still drawn to him all the same.

After a long, agonizing time, he freed himself of the grasp of the throng and found the stairs of an isolated corner of the castle. He breathed freely and wiped his forehead, and he forgot about his good clothes. He just simply let himself rest on the stairs, closing his eyes and trying to find his peace, at least for a moment.

He opened his eyes when he heard footsteps nearing him; looked up to see the fiery young man casually strolling down the paved path towards the stone stairs, hands in pockets. He was the epitome of recklessness. His rusty hair was sticking out in all directions, he had gotten dirty again and he didn't seem to be dressed in the clothes that he had been offered by the castle household. He was still as heedless as ever and Ralph tried to stop himself for getting mad, for it was futile by then. The job of changing Jack into a more reasonable person appeared to be without good end.

He stiffened and looked away as the older boy sat next to him.

„So I see you're taking your 'sorcerer' role very seriously." Ralph was surprisingly the first who spoke after a restless silence. He switched his gaze from the opposite stone wall of the nearby construction to Jack, to see him returning an unnerving smile, his eyes slightly narrowed, intensely studying the fair boy. Ralph tentatively shuffled, trying not to become intimidated. It would be ludicrous.

"Someone has to." Jack retorted, moving his stare away after a long moment of watching him. "There's such a great sense of power that flows through my blood when I see them so believing. So strongly putting their faith in my so-called powers." He released a breath and lay back onto the stairs, watching the dark clouds, placing his hands behind his head. "And it's in advantage to us both. Having people putting their trust in us." He looked up, furtively smiling. "Did you see how impressed they were just by a simple knife act?"

The fair boy scoffed, slightly leaning back as well. "It was just a cheap trick. People will believe anything these days."

"But you believed it for a moment too and that was enough." Jack retorted, revealing sharp teeth. "The difference between you and them is that you've gotten your fair share of education. You can discern between truth and lie, most of the time. You've become a know-it-all." The fair boy knitted his brow, already displeased at the jibing way in which the red boy was speaking to him. He itched to snidely retort but Jack spoke over him.

"But they haven't." He carried on. "They do not know more than the back of their own yards, and so they will be easily manipulated. Controlled. You can do anything you want out of them. Even with plain tricks like the one I pulled off earlier." His smile faded and his limbs loosened, his eyes closing as he appeared to completely slacken in that lazy posture, as if he had just finished conquering the world. The fair boy's breathing turned heavier as he took notice of the muscles that hardened underneath Jack's tunic, the thin material tightly enclosing his arms and chest in that position. He cleared his throat and slightly flushed, trying to come to his senses before he lost control over his prick in that public place. Not many people passed through there, but he wasn't in the mood to show Jack how much he was stirring him up. Not then. He was still furious with him.

"I don't think I want to control people in such a vile way. Manipulation was never my choice." He responded harshly. Jack opened one eye to regard him cynically.

"Says the priss who has come up with the idea of tricking people into believing I am a warlock." The prince fretted annoyed.

"I was just trying to pull you out of that mess, Jack." He threw him an exasperated look. "I wasn't thinking clearly and, yes, I am capable of lying when it's for a better cause, but what good will come out of continuously deceiving people like this? None, I'm telling you."

"None?" The red boy slightly stood up, rattled. "How about you getting everything you want? Becoming more powerful than ever alongside me?"

"Out of a few tricks?" Ralph questioned incredulously. "You must be off your rocker."

He recoiled when Jack hauled himself up and pressed into him, his chest colliding with Ralph's shoulder.

"It's the idea in itself, my sweetheart." He spoke lowly, heated mouth against Ralph's ear. "The small rocks will fortify the house. These acts will lead to the greater power. People will see us like the absolute rulers." His hand slightly traced over the small of Ralph's back, thumb softly rubbing up and down his spine, dissolving the strength left in the fair boy.

"But I don't want that. I want to lead to lead fairly, to be just, like my father." He protested softly. The red boy jeered and tutted.

"Your father is anything but just. And that is why it was such a wise gesture of you to have chosen me as counsel. My influence over the royal house will be unprecedented." Ralph's lips pursed. He writhed out of Jack's touch with a glare.

"Stop insulting me and my family. I really do not understand you. You hated it so much at the beginning and now you enjoy it. I find that hard to believe." Jack casually shrugged.

"That was before I've realized the advantages I could get out of this." He bluntly offered. Ralph's glare intensified at the unscrupulous and amoral attitude of the other boy. Anxiousness briefly overcame him and he felt as if he had gotten himself into something treacherous.

"You are to occasionally advise me, bastard. Not to completely take over." He irritably hurled back. The antagonism between them was intense for a good beat, Jack's shrewd smile clashing with Ralph's conflicted and irate front, until the fair boy's eye caught sight of Jack's knife, the pointy end jutting out of his pocket. He tried to temporarily dismiss their previous conversation, turning an inquiring expression towards the sharp object.

"How did you do that trick anyways?" The red boy chuckled, grasping the knife and bringing it into light.

"Should I tell you?" He wickedly pondered aloud, eyes frozen and so keen, that Ralph was completely mesmerized by their unusual pallor under the greying sky. The fair boy nodded, a childlike curiosity flickering in his gaze.

"First of all, light is the gimmick." Jack explained, lifting the blade higher into daylight. "When the blade shines, people will know the knife is in your hand." He then switched the knife, bringing the cutting part into view. "When it doesn't shine anymore, the knife can be easily made unseen." He quickly flicked his wrist and the knife wasn't there anymore. Ralph blinked, feeling as if he had been drugged into dreams after a long, winter sickness.

"Where is-" He frowned and grabbed Jack's arm, rolling it and inspecting it on all sides, making the older boy laugh. The fair boy leaned back and crossed his arms.

"Alright, you got me. Now show me." The prince ordered impatiently. Jack raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Demanding much, your highness?" Ralph fussed in his spot.

"Come on, already," He urged. He sounded pratty to his own ears, but he was too enraptured by the feat. It wasn't much, but he had never seen someone perform such good illusory acts without him realizing the puzzle. And from that close too.

Jack turned his arm, so that the back of it was facing upwards. Ralph scrunched his eyes, confused for moments. Then he saw it. Right there. The shape of the blade underneath the fabric of Jack's sleeve. It had been so simple and yet he hadn't realized it. He felt thoroughly foolish.

"Is that it?" He inquired, disbelieving. He leaned back and turned away, feeling somehow betrayed, which was a little bit ridiculous. Jack snorted.

"You say it as if it is the most obvious thing, but you wouldn't have realized it without me explaining it to you. And neither anyone else, apparently." He pulled the knife out of his sleeve again and Ralph peered at him slightly offended.

"How do you know I wouldn't have? It's just a dirty trick. You're just good at dirty tricks." He chided. Suddenly, his stomach shifted with worry as something came to his mind. "Doesn't it slash your arm?" He caught Jack's wrist, before lifting his sleeve, but all he saw was pale skin carved by a few old, white scars, a sign that Jack had been hurting himself the first times he had tried doing the scheme.

"It did." Jack retorted, a bit disconcerted and even strangely disgruntled by Ralph's brusque attempt to touch him. He retreated his arm and the fair boy felt questions gnaw at his mind. "When I was a child." He rolled down his sleeve. The sudden aloofness shaped his expression once again.

"Mother taught me most illusory tricks that I know." Ralph enlarged his eyes, elation pumping in his veins at the mention of the Merridew family from Jack's own mouth. He bit his tongue, fighting against the urge to assault the other boy with indiscreet questions. He wanted to let him talk by himself, without angering him about it. "She taught me most things. Including how to steal." The fair boy's heart beat harder against his ribcage.

"She taught you how to steal?" He exclaimed, a bit scandalized. He knew the family consisted of morally dubious people, but he had never imagined Jack's mother had done wrong, in spite of the fact that she'd been executed. He'd always believed she'd been unfairly executed, though he still didn't think that stealing should be punished by death. And there was the fact that he'd instinctively compared her to his own mother, in some strange way. Which is why he hadn't been able to imagine her doing the things that Jack was doing. People were different indeed, and even mothers seemed to be capable of committing harm. It was just difficult for him to imagine it.

"Yes, she did." Jack worded. "She also taught me about different sorts of people in the world, how to read them and outwit them. Fool them. Especially rich maggots like the people from your court." He sneered. Ralph regarded him, doubtful.

"But you were rich too. And even now you're a lord, despite that you've lost your fortune. You still have the title." He spoke baffled.

"And it's not worth a damn to me." The red boy curled his mouth downwards in revolt. "Not anymore."

Ralph was left silent, looking at the other boy in wonder, the noise of the far-away streets and the rustling of the wind being the only sounds that disrupted the area. The quietude between them was soothing and comfortable, which told the fair boy something. He was starting to get used to Jack's company without the need to speak to him, or pretend anything else. It was that homely closeness between two people who'd known each other for a long time.

"There's also more to my previous stunt." Jack suddenly voiced playfully. The prince threw him an enquiring glance. His mouth opened in surprise when he saw Jack pulling another knife out of his other pocket.

"You had two knives?!" He burst out. "But that's cheating!" Jack snickered.

"There's always cheating in illusions, little sunshine." He asserted with satisfaction while successively pulling the third knife out of his left booth and the forth out of the other, leaving Ralph stupefied. He couldn't believe Jack was constantly carrying that weaponry around, without hurting himself. He must have had greater experience than he had reckoned.

"And that trick you saw today was just one of the simpler ones." He stated, bringing one hand to caress Ralph's astonished face, fingers moving to tangle within the bright locks behind his ear. When he retreated his hand, there was a medium-sized golden coin between his fingers and the fair boy wheezed, slightly irked and even more amazed.

"You stole that from me, didn't you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. The red boy smirked and swiftly leaned to press his mouth into his, before retreating just as quickly.

"Perhaps."

Ralph blinked, then checked his surroundings panicked. No one had seen them, fortunately. He frowned at Jack's smug features.

"Are you still angry with me?" Jack inquired. The fair boy rolled his eyes and faintly smiled against his will. He yanked the coin from between the other boy's fingers.

"Perhaps."

…

The following night, the prince squirmed and turned in his sheets. His arm tightly hugged the pillow, his face buried into the softness. He turned around again and released a loud breath that melted into a keening sound as he looked at the other side of the large bed. It must have been a little over past midnight. The room was veiled in a dim light due to the fire that was burning in the hearth. He couldn't sleep.

He felt like he needed a presence beside him. He needed for Jack to sleep in the same bed with him.

That wasn't easily possible, he was aware. The prince's chamber was always guarded and no one was allowed to enter, aside from the royal family, especially during the night. If he went out, the guard would see him and report to his father. The gears in his mind turned, straining to find a solution.

The other way was the small door encrusted into the wall beside the fireplace, a door that led into a secret corridor placed right inside the walls of the castle. The corridor descended to the lower grounds, but it was abhorrently filthy and Ralph knew from the last and only time he had gone through there, that the corridor was infested with rats and all sorts of godforsaken creatures. Ralph shivered at the possibility, but his heart and mind ached with want for the other boy.

He could quickly go through there. He could just look straight ahead, rapidly descend the steps without minding the surroundings and then he would find himself right at the bottom, without even realizing when it had all passed. The fear was still lurking at the back of his mind, but he swallowed heavily and summoned his courage.

It had been a dreadful idea. Aside from the fact that the old, stone door made a terrible noise when he moved it, the darkness in there was terrifying. There was a leak somewhere, hence the echo of droplets hitting the solid ground reached his ears, the sound probably coming from the dungeons. He bit his lower lip. His fingers reluctantly traced the side of the grimy wall, searching for any remains of an old torch. His hand suddenly touched something that quickly ran beneath his fingers and he yelped and backed away as if he'd been burned.

The prince released a noise in frustration and swore at the foolishness that determined him to put himself through all that.

Inhaling deeply, he put more vigour into his search. After bumping into other obscure, ghastly insects and little beasts that crawled along the wall, he finally found an old wooden log that was probably dunk and musty. Under his touch, the wood seemed to be dry, but he wasn't certain. He brought the log into the light of the small fire in the hearth and sighed in relief when he saw that the wood was still potentially usable, despite its old age. Lighting it up, he returned to the tunnel. He calmed his nervousness and steadily started walking down the slippery stairs.

Along the way, he almost ran back to his room. At a distance, on the lower stairs, rats scrabbled in all directions into the pitch darkness once the light in the fair boy's hand fell on them. His pulse rung loudly in his ears, but he continued his way.

As he neared the lower grounds of the castle, the leak turned louder. His excitement grew when he reached the last steps, when he observed the shape of the door into the stone wall, at the end of the tunnel. He lifted his torch and looked again for a handle or a knob that could have helped him push it, but he found none and so he simply pushed into the solid wall. The door budged, but only slightly. It started moving though after repeated thrusts.

Another rat ran past his feet and Ralph gave a small screech and almost dropped the fire in his hand. He heaved, flushing in embarrassment and thanking the lord that no one had heard and seen the pathetic lass behaviour he had proven in that night. After agony and much struggle, the prince opened the massive door with a low noise. He checked the hall and deemed it as empty, for all he could see under the light of the torches lined up down the hall.

He moved to quickly head for Jack's chamber which was apparently a few meters further from the spot he found himself in, but immediately halted. Someone was coming in that direction. Ralph retreated inside the tunnel, leaving the stone door ajar to see the person in question, and was slightly taken aback to see Jack staggering down the hall, heading towards his chamber.

The fact that Jack had been gone until that late hour was the least of Ralph's anxieties. He froze in his place when the yellow glow fell on Jack's figure, bringing him into view.

He was limping and his tunic was stained with blood in many different places. The area of his chest and stomach was soaked in dark red and the fair boy gasped with concern when he spotted Jack's face. He had scratches and cuts all over skin, his lip and nose were severely bleeding and his eye was blackened and swollen.

Ralph quickly forgot about his hiding place. He didn't care anymore if there were guards roaming around the halls at that late hour. No one had stopped Jack, so he was sure the ground level wasn't even guarded anyways.

"Jack!" He called in a whisper. The other boy didn't seem to have heard him. Ralph got closer and grabbed his wrist to stop him. Jack lurched backwards, shock and an unknown fear flashing in his eyes. He acted as if he didn't even know where he was. A tremble was affecting his movement and Ralph peered at him distressed. He squeezed his hand in worry.

"What happened to you? Why are you like this? Did you get in a fight?"

The red boy contorted his features in wrath once he woke up to his surroundings and realized Ralph's presence. He jerked his hand out of the fair boy's frailer one and lashed out at him.

"Get the bloody hell away from me! Go back to your room!" He snarled, his eyes mad and bloodshot, and Ralph instinctively backed away in fear. He felt as if Jack's harsh words had stabbed right into his heart. He tightened his features.

"You're not well!" He riposted. "Let me help you!" He sheepishly tried to get closer again, but Jack pushed into his chest, making him stumble backwards. He panted and watched the older boy, large eyes filled with hurt.

"Go back to your room, Ralph!" Jack shouted and the fair boy remained stunned when he heard his name coming out of Jack's mouth for the first time. "I said _go_!" He hissed, baring his teeth in a growl that appeared murderous and unholy in the shadows that crept onto his face. Ralph stood to the spot, petrified, too shaken by Jack's behaviour. He wanted to help him, but Jack's hostility was clawing at the old fear that the prince had had of the other boy once. He tried to bury it, overcome it, but he could no longer see Jack in that moment. He could no longer see his friend, his lover. The red boy troubled and frightened him, and when he dashed at Ralph again, the fair boy reeled for good and hurried back to the place he had come from.

Suddenly, the tunnel that he had been so terrified of moments ago seemed oddly safe right then.


End file.
